


Deus Vult : Primus

by Dvasia



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Sex, satanic rituals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:17:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dvasia/pseuds/Dvasia
Summary: With so much greed and corruption in the world, the Antichrist is about to be delivered. Darkness will devour humanity, unless the light can stop it.One woman has been selected by a powerful, demonic group to produce the unholy bastard. Although a child of light, she must pick the side she will fight on very carefully.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set with Papa Emeritus and the Nameless Ghouls from the band Ghost as demonic characters, as opposed to humans performing in a band.
> 
> Originally I had not planned for this - I just wanted to write a short sexy Satanic story but it grew out of control, so I went with it. Some chapters will be quite short and rushed (I do apologise), but I will compensate with some more lengthy chapters.

* * *

 

 

 

“Finally, it’s Friday!” I exclaimed, perhaps with less enthusiasm than warranted, but I had just been disturbed from my peaceful slumber. I extended my arm to clumsily deactivate the simple battery powered alarm clock, stretching my other limbs from the comfort of my bed.

The persistent noise from the device silenced, I slowly remove my legs from the bed while trying to read the time in my daze. 06:45 AM.

“Late again, what is wrong with me..” But there was no time to ponder, I had to commence the undelightful task of preparing myself for another day of work. Time for a shower. Perhaps a quick one instead of the comforting, enjoyable one that I was used to.

By the time it was 08:00 AM, I was wide awake, gorging with urgency on my breakfast and reading the news. It seemed that there was never anything good to report these days, not ideal for setting one’s mood for the day. Alas.

Before leaving my abode, I checked myself out in the mirror one final time. Black, shoulder length hair was reasonably frizz-free considering it had been washed only an hour prior; eyebrows neatly groomed and touched up, mascara slightly on the clumpy side but no matter; lips bare, natural. It was the last day of work for the week, the office would be practically empty, so casual would be perfectly suitable. Dark blue jeans, a plain black short sleeved top, an Aztec inspired cardigan to shield against the office air conditioning, black platform shoes. Not glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, but I suppose I reserved my glamour for more special days.

I stepped outside of my modest, semi-detached house, locking the door behind me. Glancing up at the late morning sky, I noticed that it was still fairly dark. Perhaps to be expected still considering it was late February, but there seemed to be more darkness than usual with fog closing in. Perhaps the heavens would open, almost typical as the weekend approaches.

Less than half an hour later, I entered my office building. “Odd,” I whisper to myself. The lights are off and there was no noise, other than my heavy footsteps. I do love my Demonia shoes, but they do not make for a quiet entrance. Not that it mattered, not one soul was in the office. A few of my colleagues seemed to have the privilege of working from home on the last day of the week, if one could really call it that. But not me. I would miss the interaction too much.

After unloading my things, I proceeded to the kitchen. I cannot start the day without coffee and no doubt once the kettle is boiling my less than punctual colleagues would appear.

As I stood by the sink, my back to the door and my personalised ‘Klara’ mug in hand, I could not only hear the thunder rumbling from above, but I could most certainly feel it as grasp the tap. With nothing more than a raised eyebrow, I continued with the preparation of my energising beverage.

Little did I know, the booming thunder masked the entrance of someone else.

 


	2. It Begins

* * *

 

 

A shadow devoured the counter before me and only moments later the lights ceased to function. I turned in haste to face the kitchen’s entrance, only to find nothing. Or no one.

“Shit,” I muttered, palms pressed against the work top. From what I could see of the office beyond the door, it was as if night had fallen.

Almost as suddenly as I had realised the place was cloaked in an unsettling darkness, the temperature had plummeted. My fingers, still gripping the counter, felt an ache which extended further to my wrists, elbows, shoulders..

The temperature would be rectified shortly, but first I was compelled to step towards the open door before me. I was convinced there must be another present. I could believe that the lights had failed due to the storm gathering outside, but the temperature plunge must have been the result of a colleague tampering with the heating system elsewhere in the office. Despite the change being extreme.

Ready to initiate conversation with the stealthy colleague, I entered the main office area and looked to my left down the office. To my surprise. I could see nothing. Nobody. Nothing on the right either, just the closed door that would lead to reception.

As I walked down the office, my footsteps became more of a dull thud on the carpet compared to the harsher sound against the tiled kitchen floor. My presence clearly announced, I call to the empty space around me, “Do you want a drink?”

But no answer came.

Having checked the private offices and finding nothing, my confusion grew which brought a hint of fear. It was dark, it was quiet, it was freezing and I seemed to be the only soul in the building. All of which completely abnormal.

‘What am I thinking?’ I thought to myself. Obviously my imagination had seized the moment and startled me. No more late night reading for me!

I sighed in frustration, turning to make my way back to the kitchen. It was then I noticed I was not alone.

I gasp, momentarily startled. But the fright lasted longer than a few moments. This was not a colleague who stood before me, merely metres away, but a complete stranger. It was difficult to make sense of the features, but from what I could see the figure was fairly tall, clothed in a black coat and black trousers, with contrasting white shirt and markings on the shoes.

The most shocking of all, the face of the intruder was unnaturally white, decorated with black around the eyes, cheeks, nose; and a single white, piercing eye almost glowing in the darkness.

Heart rate now rapid, I started to panic. I could see no weapons, but my brain could not begin to comprehend what was going on. Who was this person? What do they want? Do they mean to harm me?

Just as my mind stumbled to grasp a logical, non-threatening conclusion, I noticed this person was with company.

More beings, currently countless, were scattered through the empty and dark office. A similar attire applied, but much more basic and the head was concealed by what seemed to be silver, horned masks. I hoped they were masks.

My panic was overwhelming, but I could not run; I could not move; I could not think. I could only focus my attention back on the figure that stood out amongst the other strangers. The figure with the paralysing white eye.

“THIS is why we are here?” An unfamiliar male voice hit, “’Tis no more than a child!”

A child? I thought. I am approaching my 3rd decade on this earth. Surely the voice was mistaken.

“Alpha,” the ghastly figure before me spoke, his tone hinting annoyance. That left eye of his never wandered, remaining firmly fixed on its target. “Not now. The mandate must be fulfilled.” The figure appeared to scold one of the masked creatures that had accompanied him and there was no verbal retaliation.

This figure slowly waved his right hand toward me, ever so slightly bowing his head without breaking eye contact. “I am Papa Emeritus III. I come from another world. A world you will see very soon.” The voice was rather normal, albeit strongly European. It did not sound demonic as I expected.

“Wh-what?” I stuttered, still unable to engage flight mode. My body seemed frozen; so much for preserving life. “I, I..” I continue, pathetically.

“Quiet, my dear.” The figure, Papa Emeritus spoke, raising his chin from his small bow. “I am not here to request. You _will_ come quietly, gracefully. Or you will be dragged. The choice is yours,” he growled.

The cold atmosphere no longer had the bite it once had. In fact, I could feel my body emitting an almost uncomfortable heat. My cheeks burned. No doubt a symptom of this panic state that now consumed me. “My.. my colleagues will be here soon,” I managed to muster, my hope dwindling with every passing second.

“Oh no,” Papa Emeritus chuckled. “You see, time has been frozen,” he added, proceeding to step towards me. “No one can save you.”

Suddenly, I found my flight. Immediately, in haste, I retreated but kept my eyes on the approaching Papa Emeritus. Despite this, the distance between the two of us narrowed. More so when my back hit the emergency fire exit.

My hand could find the handle to release me. The opening of the door would surely trigger an alarm. I could then make my escape.

No sooner had I attempted to release the door, which refused to budge, my dominant arm was squeezed and immobilised. A very intimidating figure loomed over me; eyes I could not see despite having my back to a mostly glass door. It would appear that the light had submitted to the darkness that surrounded.

“Alpha!”


	3. Evasion is Futile

* * *

 

 

“Alpha!” Papa Emeritus exclaimed, angrily.

“You said this insignificant insect had a choice – come quietly or kicking and screaming.” The grip on my arm intensified. My eyes narrowed in response to the pain, silently pleading to be released.

Perhaps it was the pain, but I found a slither of bravery. I dared ask the question, “What do you want? At least give me that.” In any other situation, I would have been angry. Livid. But in this instance, my voice was gentle and quite timid in an attempt to subdue the domineering creature crushing my arm.

“Ghoul, that is enough. Stand down,” commanded Papa Emeritus. The unforgiving creature, the Ghoul, relinquished his hold and took a few steps back moments later. My arm flowed with blood once more and I was somewhat relieved. In my anxiety, however, I did not move. Not even to comfort my throbbing limb.

“Child,” Papa Emeritus purred as he approached slowly. “You are a being of light. You have the ability for hope. For love. But most importantly, you hold the light.” The mysterious figure stopped merely a couple of metres away. In the darkness, I could see his facial expression; void of any kind of emotion. “In words of other, integral for our Infernal Majesty’s plans, you see?”

If the brief monologue was supposed to make sense, it really did not! I was just as confused as I was prior, if not more so. Nothing was explained. It only fed the fear and confusion rather than calming it.

Papa Emeritus took pity, noticing that I was not satisfied. “I will explain to you later. But for now, you come with me,” he commanded. At this juncture, I noticed the other identical Ghouls closing in. Panic heightened, I left the support of the fire exit and ran forward.

The leading figure, Papa Emeritus, made no attempt to stop me it seemed; but I had no intention of turning around. I ran as fast as I could for the second door, nothing in front of me to stop me. I hoped that any moment I would see a familiar face enter through the door. Or to wake up in the comfort of my own bed. The latter seemed more likely. This just had to be a nightmare.

Unfortunately, my escape was thwarted; I felt sudden pressure across my neck followed by a tightening sensation around my waist. Brought to a halt, my feet lost contact with the ground and my hands immediately sprang to relieve the tension around my throat; nails attempting to pierce the clothed arm of the intruder and his skin. Assuming he had skin.

I could not see my captor, but knew it must have been one of the Ghouls. I was made to face Papa Emeritus once more, who was actually some distance away. I was agonisingly close to the door.

“Well done, Alpha,” Papa Emeritus congratulated with little emotion. “Restrain her like a gentleman while I open the gate. I expect no serious injuries on the other side, yes?”

Whether the Ghoul responded or not was lost to me. My focus was on breaking the grip this thing had on me; at the very least I could still breathe. A small relief.

But gate? What gate? Gate to where?

“Apertus!” Papa Emeritus yelled, arms in the air and gloved fingers outstretched. His voice echoed through the room and a blast of air crashed into everything; papers flying from my colleagues’ desks, small decorations tumbling. My eyes stung as the moisture was instantly dried. I had to close them tightly. Even my breath was taken away.

Relief came soon after.

Once my eyes were open, I could see what looked like a portal before me. It was black and pulsed irregularly with flashes of emerald.

“Fuck!” I shouted and tensed in anticipation of being forced into this unknown entry. The Ghoul holding me must have known my intentions because he mercilessly tightened his grip around my throat, his inner elbow closing on me. Breathing became more laboured and more difficult and my struggling more frantic.

The last thing I remember seeing is Papa Emeritus standing next to the portal, looking in our direction.

Then, everything went black.


	4. The Kind One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shortness, it was really only for the introduction of someone :)

* * *

 

 

What was that? Was it just a dream? It must have been. It could not have been anything but.

My eyes opened slowly, unable to fixate on anything immediately. It was dark and it felt like I was in bed, but it was not comfortable. Not the bed, but the scenario. It did not feel familiar. The place also had a medieval feel to it; cold, colourless and dark.

I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain ran up my right arm. I clenched my teeth with the discomfort but managed to push myself, carefully leaning back against the head board.

I remembered why my arm hurt.

“You’re awake,” a somewhat cheerful and gentle voice startled me. It was not familiar, unlikely to belong to the same aggressive beings I must have encountered. “Fear not, I won’t harm you.” The voice spoke again.

My eyes darted until I found the owner of the voice. It was a Ghoul. Identical to the one that tormented me. However long ago that was now.

“I’m here to make sure you’re okay. Alpha can be quite rough. For that I apologise.” This Ghoul definitely was different to the other. Alpha, as he was supposedly called.

“And you are?” I asked, feeling quite relaxed in this being’s presence. On tenterhooks, but less so.

“I am known as Omega,” he responded, standing and approaching my bed. Well, not my bed, the piece of furniture I somehow claimed. “How is your arm?”

My stare followed his eyes, or at least where I expect his eyes to be. I was unable to make out any details. “It’s okay,” I lied, unsure how to really respond. “Where am I? And why am I here?” I asked, tone laced with concern.

I am sure if this Ghoul was able to display a sympathetic expression, he would. But this was beyond what I could see. “I am sorry, but I cannot be the one to tell you. But you will find out soon,” he stood by the bed, looking down on me. Carefully, he raised his hand and placed it gently on my head. Perhaps the only reassurance that he could provide. “I won’t let any harm come to you.”

I eased under his touch, relaxing against the bed but my eyes remained fixed on him. This Ghoul, although identical in appearance to Alpha, was much different. He could not completely eradicate the fear, the worry. But at least I was reassured slightly in his presence.

The door suddenly opened. It soon became obvious it was the only door to the room and now yet another unidentified Ghoul stood under its arch. The Ghoul at my side, Omega, turned to face his twin, removing his hand carefully from the top of my head.

“Bring her downstairs,” the Ghoul commanded, “Papa Emeritus is waiting,” before closing the door abruptly.

“Hmm,” Omega sighed, turning back to me but with no contact this time. “Are you able to get out of bed?” He asked.

I nodded, swinging my legs free of the thin fabric that covered them, and placed my feet on the cold, hard floor. It was then I noticed that my clothes had changed; I could see my naked legs instead of jeans. Fortunately, I was wearing some form of clothing. A dress. Black, with an extremely basic white inverted cross starting from my collar bone to my waist. Confusion was obvious, prompting Omega. “Appropriate attire required. And don’t worry, nothing sinister happened. I think Papa would rather you were awake for anything like that.”

Excuse me? I thought to myself. Sinister? Am I about to be murdered? Sacrificed?

“Here, take my hand,” Omega offered in support, waiting for me patiently. “The road ahead may be unpleasant, but I have no doubt that you can persevere.”

The words fuelled my curiosity and fear, but brought a sense of calmness as well.

“May I ask your name?” The Ghoul quizzed.

I took his hand, gripping gently. “Klara.”


	5. The Chapel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I am still in the process of writing chapters leading up to the sexy times, but I have already written them themselves?  
> Sort of backwards way of writing that keeps growing!
> 
> Yay for bank holidays!

* * *

 

 

 

I was in a Church. A very traditional one it seemed, despite the anti-Christian décor – inverted crosses, demonic goat heads, the star of David and not to mention the excessive black.

The altar however was dressed in white, with nothing but two black candles at both ends; they had been lit for some time and had dwindled into approximately two inches of melted wax formations. Behind the altar stood the creature of my nightmares, Papa Emeritus.

I was surrounded by unidentified, nameless Ghouls. Four near me. Plus Omega, who remained by my side. I am sure I noticed others in the background also. In the absence of pews, we all stood a few metres back from the altar starting from the foot of the steps. The room was silent. It was nerve-wracking to say the least.

As I turned to Omega, to question the purpose of this meeting, Papa Emeritus erupted, “After years of searching, I have found a child of light. Daughter of our nemesis, but our greatest chance of victory!”

The Ghouls applauded in response and looked in my direction, all except my new companion whom allowed me to hug his arm.

“Our Master, His Infernal Majesty, demands his plan comes to fruition immediately, for we can afford no more time wasting,” Papa Emeritus continued, glancing down at the Ghouls from his position above. “But we have been preparing for this for some time, have we not? I trust everything is in order for St. Eichatadt’s? Only a couple of days away now, ah?”

I was convinced that I was to be sacrificed. I did not know what this St. Eichatadt’s day is, but I was not filled with any confidence.

Papa’s eyes targeted mine for a few, terrifying seconds before rolling to Omega. “She is not permitted to leave, or wander without escort. You will make sure of that.”

Omega bowed his head in acceptance and said nothing. At least in my final days I would not be tormented, I guess.

“The rest of you, get to work and –“

“What are you planning on doing to me?!” I cried out, spontaneous and even to my own surprise. I had released Omega’s arm and took a step forward. It may have been bravery initially, but as soon as the words escaped me I felt certain dread; the blood rushed from my head.

“Impudence will not be tolerated,” scolded Papa, glaring at me as he positioned himself in front of the altar. “Consider this your first and final warning. You will address me appropriately and with respect.”

I gulped and frowned at the response. Maybe I was a bit abrupt, but surely, I deserved some kind of explanation for all of this? For what I am about to go through?

“Papa Emeritus,” Omega intervened, “can Klara be informed of what is expected of her? Before the Ritual? It might ease her fears and make her more compliant.” Omega’s head remained bowed during the conversation and his hands glided behind his back in embrace.

Is he really looking out for me? I wondered, almost frowning at him before turning back to Papa, feeling the tears form in my eyes. It normally took a lot for me to cry, but given the current circumstances I should not be too hard on myself.

Hold on, Ritual? Now I knew I was going to be sacrificed.

Papa sighed, seeming quite irritated as he rubbed his temple with his right hand. “Klara,” he spoke softly, “you will carry the child of our Master. Otherwise known to your kind as the Antichrist.”

Those very words struck fear and disgust in me. I never had any intention of bearing children, let alone the Antichrist! What would I do? What could I do? Surely someone else could take my place?

“The child you will produce,” Papa continued, oblivious or uncaring to my feelings, “will someday bring the Day of Reckoning. Humanity will get what he deserves.”

I was too horrified to speak. This had to be a joke. It could not be possible. It could not. My gaze slowly descended from Papa’s emotionless face, blackening from the corners; I was getting tunnel vision in my distress.

How could I play a part in humanity’s destruction? I might not have been a bad person, but my words, actions and thoughts would make a Saint pass out.

Was that why? Perhaps I was not the good person I thought I was. I started to remember various and unrelated scenes from my life, trying to find the point which may have sealed my fate. I never killed anyone or anything; only a pet cat that was euthanised because he suffered from a debilitating health problem. Was that it?

I did not like to hurt anyone. I was quite an empathetic person, so felt massive guilt if I did hurt someone. For goodness sake, I could have cried watching characters on the television in despair. No, that could not be it.

I enjoyed rock music, meat and fetish nightclubs. Oh fuck!

I then felt pressure on my shoulders and was quickly brought back to reality. It was Omega, he had his hands on my shoulders to stabilise me.

“So, that is that,” Papa spoke, perching on the edge of the altar. “Omega, you may return her to her room and watch her. The rest of you can get started on the final preparations.”

But I was not ready to return just yet. “Why me?” I questioned, still allowing Omega to support me.

“Why not you?” Papa responded, tilting his head slightly and looking at me from the corner of his eye. That white eye.

There would be no further elaboration, it seemed.

“I don’t even like children,” I pleaded, hoping the captor would release me upon learning of my dislike for children. They were noisy, ungrateful, and had no manners. Well, sometimes. Perhaps that was a bit harsh. There were plenty of other ladies who adore children however, so they would be much more suitable.

“And I don’t like my time being wasted, but shit happens,” said Papa in an almost teasing way, folding his arms in an apparent display of displeasure. He finally turned to face me at least. “Shall I enlighten you further, or are you done with your arduous questions?”

I supposed I was done. I clearly did not get any informative or useful answers and Omega had started to shepherd me away. Just before I turned my back on Papa, he raised a gloved hand and waved goodbye. It was in a rather, patronising and irritating kind of way.

Yes, goodbye Papa Emeritus.


	6. Goodbye

* * *

 

 

 

“Fuck,” I exclaimed upon returning to my room. “Fuck! This is bullshit!” I stomped towards the bed, finding my shoes and slipping them on my feet. I did not bother looking for my actual clothes, there was no time for that. “You have to take me home, now!” I shouted, glaring at Omega who had been standing quietly by the closed door during my tantrum.

“I’ve heard that before,” Omega chuckled, perhaps hoping a little joke would calm the situation.

“Comic,” I responded blankly, moving around the room in search of my bag. I did have my bag, didn’t I? Or did it get left behind on my desk in the office? I would have given anything to be back there; I could not believe I would ever say that, but it was true. “But I am being serious,” I added with a sigh, “I cannot, will not go through with this. You can go find someone else. I have to go back to my life.”

Omega did not move from the door. “You know I cannot allow that. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Really? I placed my hands on the large, wooden table by my bed, staring at the half empty glass bottle of water. I wondered how my family, friends and colleagues were getting on without me. Did they even notice I was gone? Was time still frozen?

“I am homesick. I miss my life, the people, even my job,” my eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, I could feel myself getting emotional. “I suppose I will be fired for disappearing.” I frowned; I did not just disappear, I was kidnapped.

“I know it must be hard for you,” Omega soothed, finally leaving the door and approached the table, stopping at my side, “if it makes you feel any better, time in your world moves a lot slower. So, you may have to be here for a few years before anything significant happens.”

Years, fuck that. Significant? I realised since being here that every moment is significant. It was an incredibly soppy way of thinking, but in my current situation I appreciated every moment. Every single moment until this Ritual, where my life would change forever.

No, that cannot happen.

Still staring at the water, my sadness turned to anger and my fists tensed. “Significant,” I repeated, before reaching for the glass bottle and squeezing its neck. The glass seemed thick, it would never yield under my grasp no matter how much effort I exerted. This just vexed me further.

Without warning, I turned my back to the table and threw the bottle with all my power, sending it crashing into numerous pieces against the stone wall. For a split second, it looked beautiful; tiny shards of glass flying and dancing, reflecting the light of the candles; the droplets of water behaving the same, but less aggressive. Then it all crashed to the stone floor.

In my rage, I even picked up the small, empty glass for which I used to drink. This was far more delicate than the bottle. It probably would not take much effort to smash.

“Klara, calm down,” Omega warned me.

Unfortunately, it would have the opposite effect. The two words ‘calm down’ made matters worse. I pulled my hand back and sent the glass to the side of Omega’s face. His mask.

It shattered on impact, pushing the Ghoul’s head sharply to the side.

“Omega..” I then realised what I had done, the rage very quickly passing. “Omega, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I moved my hands to my chest, staring up towards his eyes. I was embarrassed, ashamed and concerned that I caused any harm. I did not know what else to say.

The Ghoul returned my gaze and placed his hands on my shoulders, firmly. I immediately tensed as the hands started to wonder over my neck, his thumbs almost meeting at the front as they slowly ascended. Was I about to be throttled?

I swallowed, which required more effort than normal while under his grip. “Are you okay, Omega?” I asked, feeling quite apprehensive as well as incredibly guilty.

“Are _you_ okay, Klara?” Omega said back to me, which felt like a blade through my heart. How could he ask that, after what I did to him?

Maybe Ghouls could not feel any pain and could not be shocked. Like machines, or like demons. Regardless, I was surprised at Omega’s response. But his kindness could not make me stay.

“Could you please get me some more water?” I asked, looking ashamed at the broken glass and wet stones where the bottle met its end.

Omega raised a hand to stroke my cheek gently, turning my head back to him. I looked into those blue eyes and felt more guilt, not only for the assault but for what I would do next.

“Give me a few minutes,” the Ghoul said and released me, turning to exit through the door.

Hopefully it would be enough time.

I launched myself onto the bed, crawling towards the one window in the room. It had no glass, nothing. Nothing to keep anything out. Or to keep me in.

As I glanced outside, following the brickwork to the ground, I realised I was not terribly high up, but jumping would mean certain injury at best. That would be all I needed. Upon closer inspection, however, I noticed that the bricks were not all uniformed; some were larger, some protruded from the others. I could climb down!

With urgency, I kicked off my shoes and moved to the outside, carefully placing my feet where I could while clinging to the window’s edge. I hoped that if I did get stuck, it would be closer to the ground instead of at this height. I did not fancy falling.

Slowly I descended, brick by brick, gripping any of the abnormal ones for dear life.

Before long, I was about half way down. Perhaps 15 feet or so. However, I could not shake the worry that Omega would return to the room at any moment and notice my absence. Would he look for me? Would he sound the alarm? I could not wait around to see his reaction, this would be my only chance of escape. If I blew it, I doubt that there would be any further opportunity.

Due to my thinking, I lost concentration on what I was doing. My right foot either was not ready to hold the weight of my body or I had misplaced it, so slipped. Immediately, I tried to steady myself with my hands, but they could only hold on for so long after my other foot slipped.

I fell with a gasp.


	7. Saviour

* * *

 

 

 

I had managed to cover reasonable ground despite my tumble, which left me with a painful ankle, but I carried on. I would not stop until I found a way to get home, although what I was looking for was a mystery. There was nothing around that I could see.

This place looked like Earth, but was it? It couldn’t be, could it? It was fairly dark, but that never really changed. There were lots of trees and no buildings, lots of grass with no path, but no signs of life; animal, creature or otherwise.

The only distinctive thing I could see was the chapel, behind me in the distance. The mist that was closing in distorted the picture slightly, but not enough to put me at ease. I had to keep running, as far away as I could. Even though I was tired, in agony and growing evermore hopeless. I could not go back to the chapel, even if there was nothing else out here. Wherever here was.

I found a small pond, in amongst the trees and somewhat crowded by shrubbery. Looking at it, I realised I was quite thirsty. Would the water be safe to drink?

I stepped forward, moving some of the bushes to get a closer look at the water. It seemed clear, but there was not enough light to tell for definite.

Instead of drinking, I knelt before the water, losing myself in my reflection. A frightened woman, wearing strange clothes and no shoes, with messy hair and out of breath. What will she do now that she is lost without even a ghost to help her.

Then a light was cast on the waters, forcing the mist to retreat and the wind to pick up.

Had I been found?

I glanced up in panic, looking everywhere for the source. No stars, no moon, no sun. I got to my feet in order to scope my surroundings properly and noticed that everything seemed to be getting a bit lighter.

“Hello, Klara,” a male voice came. A figure from across the pond. The water had turned white and made the figure easier to distinguish. A tall gentleman, dressed in white robes with dark blonde curly hair that framed his face. He looked beautiful, regal and majestic. And human. Could there really be other humans in this place?

“My name is Jophiel and I can help you,” even his voice was beautiful; quite feminine, smooth and soothing.

“How?” I could not help but remain suspicious. I was yet to find anything good in this place. Well, except Omega but I was ready to accept that he would be a one off.

The man, Jophiel, took graceful steps around the pond and headed in my direction, smiling and holding out his hands; palms facing me. Possibility as non-threatening as one could get.

“I can get you out of here. You do not have to go through with what your captors ask of you,” Jophiel stopped a couple of feet in front of me, looking down on me with those heavenly icy blue eyes of his. “You do not belong here, Klara.”

I felt wonderful, magnificent and indestructible suddenly. I could no longer feel the pain in my ankle, either. All of my worries, my concerns and my doubts disintegrated immediately. I did not even care how he knew my name.

I would be willing and eager to place my trust in Jophiel. This complete stranger who knew a lot about me.

My hands were taken tenderly by his and his smile radiated further, even spreading to my face. His light was contagious and chased away everything negative. Even my surroundings seemed beautiful; the sun shining, butterflies fluttering, birds tweeting and flowers dancing.

It was as if I was already away from this hell. I was more than excited to go with this man, even though I could not tear my eyes away from his. It was as if I was under a spell.

_“Klara!”_

I heard a voice, faint and in the distance. It sounded familiar, but I could not identify it. All I could think clearly about was the gentleman before me.

_“Klara!”_

Again, the unknown voice called. But I was not interested.

“KLARA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

All of a sudden, I was back. No longer staring into the wonderful eyes of Jophiel. I was surrounded by darkness again. What happened?

Jophiel was startled too and embraced me, holding my head to his chest. Shhhh, I heard as he tried to relax me in his warmth.

“Release her now!” The voice commanded, before I could slip back into my trance like state. I recognised that voice. It was Omega. Omega had come to find me.

I tried to turn away from Jophiel, wanting to apologise to my friend, but I could not move. The arms around me were too firm, they had no intention of releasing me no matter how much I tried. But why did I want to be released? Just to say goodbye to Omega?

I opened my mouth to speak instead, but I had no voice. No sound whatsoever. I was quite alarmed.

The light surrounding Jophiel started to fade, but I still could not see Omega. All I could see was the white clothing that wrapped around me, holding me close.

“I SAID-!” Omega’s voice boomed, but I was unable to hear the rest of what was said. Quickly I was pushed back from Jophiel, stumbling and finally falling on my rear.

A black blur rushed before my eyes, aimed for the light, what was left of it, emitted by Jophiel.

I rolled onto my side, bringing myself to a kneeling position while I massaged my head. I felt slightly dizzy and disorientated, like everything in my head was rolling around. It almost made me feel sick. Did I hit my head, I wondered?

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and another one under my chin, forcing me to look up.

It was the lovely blue eyes of Omega, “Are you hurt?” He asked, sounding concerned and panting. I had no time to answer, he cradled me in his arms and stood up; the motion in itself making me feel worse. “Let’s get you back,” he added.

“No,” I argued, albeit weakly. “I want to go with Jophiel!”

Omega growled. It was so very out of character for him. Or was it? “You cannot go with him, now come on,” he turned and carried me away. Back in the direction of the castle.

It was obvious that I had covered quite some distance despite my painful ankle, I was almost impressed with myself. I did wonder, however, why my ankle no longer hurt; it felt as good as new.

“You have some explaining to do to Papa Emeritus,” Omega warned, still holding me in his arms.


	8. Penance

* * *

 

 

 

I stood before Papa Emeritus at the altar, fearful but full of anger. My escape had not gone to plan and now I faced the consequences. Needless to say, this man, if one could call him that, was greatly displeased.

“So you thought you could escape, ah?” He asked, although it was obviously a rhetorical question. “I suppose I should expect disobedience from you, but do not expect me to tolerate it. What you are destined to do is naturally beyond your comprehension, but I will not be lenient with you. You were warned, sufficiently, I believe. Yet you still waste my time and Omega’s. As well as the other Ghouls who were looking for you.”

Papa Emeritus paced, from one end of the altar to the other, void of any lit candles this time. I knelt at the first step, following only his feet with my vision. Too afraid to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry,” I uttered, low in confidence. Especially knowing that my only friend now, Omega, could be in trouble because of my actions. That was the last thing I wanted.

“You will be soon, child,” Papa growled, putting a halt to his pacing to face me, to glare down on me. While I could not see his gaze, I could most certainly feel it. What was he going to do to me? I cringed, but I was annoyed at being referred to as a child.

“With all due respect,” I hissed through gritted teeth, “I am no child. I am –“

“You insist on acting like a child, an untrustworthy one at that,” Papa continued to scold, despite no further retaliation from myself. “Did you really think you could just abscond? I am surprised at your ignorance! And to fool Omega, well!”

I flinched again. Never had I felt so uncomfortable. I wished with all my heart that Omega was here, to make me feel better. But alas, he was nowhere to be found. No doubt forbidden to see me thanks to his blunder. No, my naivety.

Papa Emeritus could not have known what happened with Jophiel at least. Omega hardly said a word when he deposited me. It would not be worth mentioning. I wanted to see my heavenly saviour again.

“I am sorry,” I said again, finally, slowly making eye contact with the domineering figure before me. This only seemed to anger Papa further. I did not know what I could say to pacify him.

“Yes, yes, you said that already,” Papa growled. He stepped down towards me, at which point I averted my gaze instantly to the ground. The fear from our initial encounter returned, as strong as ever. What was he going to do? Slaughter me and find someone more suitable? While I was frightened by the idea, it would probably be for the best. Eventually.

I felt his hand grip my left wrist and my panic increased. Without thinking, I immediately resisted his pull as I was forced to my feet, careful not to lose my footing on the steps. However, my retaliation was futile as he effortlessly pulled me toward him. With doe eyes I looked up into his, but his eyes shimmered with a fiery evil. There seemed to be no calming them.

To my surprise, Papa Emeritus took a seat on one of the steps, but refused to release his grip on me. The sudden move shifted me slightly off balance, but before I could regain myself I felt a tug on my arm. As a result, I fell forward into his waiting lap. I closed my eyes, anticipating hitting the floor with my face, but it did not happen. I was simply draped across Papa’s knees and when I opened my eyes I could only see the steps before me. Once I realised and felt the pressure against my torso and abdomen, I figured what was going to happen.

Before I could say anything, Papa Emeritus spoke, “your penance. Do not try to protest.”

I did not even have a chance to argue. As soon as Papa finished, he lifted my dress to expose my rear end, which was fortunately still partially covered by my underwear, and swiftly delivered a hard SMACK! I gritted my teeth upon impact, it was all I could do.

Unfortunately, the assault did not end there. Papa repeatedly struck my bottom with his gloved hand. After only a handful of the strikes, I grasped the edge of the step I was facing and involuntarily kicked my legs out.

Papa ceased the assault. “Do not do that. Do not kick. It will be worse for you. Do you understand?”

Again, before I could muster any words, his hand hit me again. The level of pain at this point was almost enough to make me cry out, but I would not. I could feel the need to kick out again but tried to restrain myself. Instead, I swung my right arm behind my back in a feeble attempt to stop the onslaught. It seemed to work.

“Please stop, it really hurts!” I pleaded, partially turning to try and look at Papa with my arm still outstretched. I expected some sympathy.

“It is supposed to,” Papa responded calmly, grabbing my wrist and pinning it to my lower back. It was clear that the ordeal was not over yet, but I would get through this. He would stop sooner or later. This would be nothing compared to what I would go through later.

I was brought back to reality suddenly when I felt another smack, followed by another, another. Every additional hit got more difficult to tolerate. I could feel the tears form in my eyes and I could no longer keep silent, I had to express my distress. There was no relief from the pain and, without thinking, I had kicked my feet up to Papa’s arm.

I still had no shoes, so the impact would not have caused any harm, but Papa was not pleased to say the least. I heard a sigh and then Papa’s right leg moved, freeing itself from beneath my hips. Was it over?

The tips of my toes landed awkwardly; one foot on one step, the other on another. I expected my knees to crash down in a similar fashion, instead I was pushed forward and my arm released to catch myself. My chin was merely an inch above the hard surface of the step.

Papa’s left leg had taken the place of his right, under my hips. I did not even have a chance to think of lifting myself when his right leg came to rest over mine. Not only was this position more uncomfortable, I had lost the ability to move my legs.

The spanking commenced again, this time much harder than previously. I could not help but cry out in pain.

“I told you not to kick me,” Papa scolded between the smacks.

“Ow!” Was all I could cry, clenching my fists and tears streaming down my face.

Then it stopped. The room fell silent, apart from an occasional splutter as I ceased crying so hard. I could hardly focus on anything.

I could still only see the cold, grey steps before me as for the first time I noticed blood rushing to my head. The position I was held in took its toll, as well as my flooding emotions, and made me feel quite lightheaded. But I was too weak to rectify the problem, I could just about manage to support myself with my arms which were shaking.

“Come,” Papa spoke as he gently placed his hands at my side, guiding me to an upright position. He had adjusted his legs so I could perch on them, which was unpleasant but I did not dare argue. My gaze remained to the steps, although I could see Papa’s face from the corner of my eye; I did not want to look at him.

“This is all a bit much for you, isn’t it?” Papa asked, no hint of anger or annoyance in his voice. On the contrary, it was rather sympathetic. Calm, quiet. “I perhaps should have expected this, but you cannot run away. I will find you. You are integral to our Master’s plans, you see. You are very important.” His hand came to rest on my back, reassuringly. However, it just made me want to cry again; I could feel it in my eyes.

So I would remain a prisoner, until I could give birth to Lucifer’s son. The Antichrist. I would contribute to the world’s end. It was quite a hopeless situation. If Jophiel could not come to me at least.

“You will be looked after, if you can allow that. My Ghouls and I will see to that no harm comes to you, unless you-“ Papa stopped, abruptly as I threw my arms around him in embrace, my head against his neck. The tears returned as I squeezed tighter.

“I want to go home,” I cried, gently clawing at Papa’s back. “I can’t do this. I can’t!”

In an attempt to subdue my pathetic wailing, Papa rubbed my back, unflinching to the growing pressure I was placing around his neck and shoulders. “You will go home, my dear. But I cannot allow that now. You must stay here with us.”

Even though his words pained me to hear, I started to relax and allowed myself to be comforted. This was a new side to Papa Emeritus I had never seen and I was enjoying it. I did not want the moment to end, for fear the ultimate plan would come into action quicker. That or Papa would suddenly turn back into his short-tempered self again. At that moment, I felt safe. It almost felt that Papa himself cared for my wellbeing. But I know he could not.

“Why did you run?” Papa asked, carefully breaking the embrace to look at me. I finally noticed, as I stared back, that his right eye was a completely different colour to his left. His left eye was a piercing white, with only the pupil bearing colour; black. The right, almost hazel like. I had just assumed the right eye remained closed until now. Focusing on his right, I felt more at ease.

“I was, am, scared. I was taken from my life abruptly. You told me I am to give birth to the Antichrist. That the son is to be conceived at the Ritual,” I thought for a moment, my mind going back to my childhood days. I was raised a Christian, through school, home and more. I was taught that God was the light, the Father, the good guy. He had a son, Jesus, through a human woman called Mary. The conception was called immaculate. I then wondered if the same would happen to me, only I would bear a child of darkness instead.

“Will I,” I started to ask, suddenly becoming embarrassed, “Will I have to have..”

Papa Emeritus chuckled, distracting me from completing my sentence. He must have known what I was trying to say. It was probably for the best. “No, my dear, you will not have sex with our Master, Lucifer. A human and a divine being of his status cannot copulate, it would be a disaster for you at the end when energy is released. We would be planning your funeral, not pregnancy,” he laughed again.

Even I could not help but smile slightly. It was a huge relief to know that I would not be raped by the King of Hell. I was a massive fan of sex, I had always enjoyed it with those who took my fancy and spent an awful lot of time craving it in its absence. Intercourse with Lucifer was unimaginable at best.

“This is why I am here,” Papa continued, seeing that I had become much more relaxed. Not completely, but it was something. “I am here to provide the energy, in much more tolerable doses.”

Wait, what? Confused, I frowned at Papa, my hands falling into my lap.

“You will be having sex at the Ritual, it is necessary for you to open yourself up spiritually to receive our Master’s energy,” Papa added, also loosening his hold on me. Did he expect me to want to flee?

I still was unsure, “how will I receive the energy?” I still frowned, leaning slightly away. Did I know the answer? Did I just not want to admit it?

“To be quite lewd in order to make my point clear, I will corrupt you by fucking you.”


	9. My Angel

* * *

 

 

 

“What?!” I exclaimed, jumping from the comfort of Papa Emeritus’s lap and throwing myself a metre or so away. Did I hear correctly? I was to be fucked? By Papa?

Papa stood with a sigh, perhaps he had expected less outrage. “That was rather gauche, I know, but fact of the matter remains. What did you expect exactly? Immaculate conception? Where is the entertainment in that?” The soft, comforting Papa seemed to disappear. Replaced by this demon who quivered in mirth at his own words.

How could he be so abrupt? So harsh? So hurtful?

I was angered by Papa’s lack of compassion, “This is not funny! I will not accept this, I cannot accept this!” I screamed, despite what had just taken place. All fear and equanimity history.

“I do not need your permission nor do I need your blessing,” Papa waved his hand, dismissively, as he turned his back and walked towards the altar.

Papa’s retreat seemed to fuel the anger further, “you can’t do this! It is wrong! And I will fight you all the way!” I shouted, creating a lot of growing energy from the adrenaline. I would fight. I would not be bullied.

However, it seemed that Papa was not interested in any further arguments. Still with his back to me, he called Omega, who entered the chapel only seconds later. The Ghoul was then instructed to return me to my room, my prison. I heard no response.

I was not ready to be dismissed just yet. “Are you listening to me? I will not let you! Ever! You bastard!” I yelled, waving my arms erratically and just about managing to refrain from stomping my feet in protest.

At this juncture, Papa was no longer unresponsive. He turned sharply from the altar and I could see his white eye again; too far to see if it had narrowed and too far to see the more human eye. My anger disappeared, replaced by sheer terror. Did I just cross the line? I should have kept quiet, instead of prodding the beast again. Now I faced despair, staring into that cold, white eye that did not relent in its glare. That was, until the eye contact was broken by Omega stepping in front of me, facing me with his hands on my shoulders.

“Klara, let us return to your room,” Omega spoke softly, his blue eyes locked to mine. I could not resist.

It was not long before I was sat on my designated bed, flinching still at the pain of sitting. Omega knelt down, so that his face was almost level with mine, but I could not bring myself to look at him. Not after I tricked him, no doubt he would feel the wrath of Papa Emeritus soon.

“I am sorry, Omega,” I said quietly, refraining from looking up. Omega had been so kind to me, I did not want to see any anger or disappointment in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Omega replied, placing his hand my knee.

I thought more about what happened after I left the chapel, running frantically into the night. That mysterious being I encountered; blonde hair, blue eyes, human looking. He was almost angelic in his appearance, but who was he? And why did he say that he could help me escape? What if the Ghouls had not turned up when they did to chase him away? Would I be safe now? Would I be home?

“Omega,” I started, slowly raising my gaze from my feet to his eye blues, “who was that guy? He said he could save me?” But could he have saved me, really? Papa Emeritus was convinced that he would always be able to find me, or was it a lie?

“An angel, Klara,” responded Omega, bowing his head.

I was beyond shocked. My breath was taken away. An angel, that human like creature was an angel? So they do exist? An angel could no doubt deliver me from these frightening and hopeless circumstances, but Omega and the other Ghouls did not allow that. As a result, I was still a prisoner in this Satanic chapel.

I then felt betrayed. Omega was almost like a friend to me, in the sense that he seemed to look out for me. So why did he interrupt us? How could Omega want me to stay and face what was coming?

“Why, Omega?” I asked, trying to remain calm. Part of me still did not want to think badly of the Ghoul.

“Angels are our enemy, Klara. I couldn’t let him take you,” Omega’s head turned slightly, but remained kneeling by my feet. I could sense in his tone that he was not happy with what he said, but neither was I.

“You couldn’t? I could have been free, and you wouldn’t let him take me?! Angels might be your enemy, but they are not mine!” I lifted my feet onto the bed, arching my knees and embracing them. My chin rested on top, refusing to now look at the Ghoul who did not move.

“Klara, let me explain,” Omega pleaded, finally looking up to meet my eyes. But it would not happen this time.

“Get out,” I hissed, closing my eyes as I buried my mouth between my knees. I could have cried, I sure wanted to, but not in the presence of Omega. I no longer had any trust in him, he was just like the others. Except Omega acted like he cared. Just acted. This was the most hurtful realisation.

Why did I fall for it? Was I so desperate for comfort in this strange place that I only saw in him what I wanted to see? What I needed to see, to make the situation more bearable? I then started to doubt everything, trying to figure out Omega’s intentions if it was not kindness.

Then I heard the door close. I glanced up and noticed that Omega was no longer present; I was alone. So be it. His only concerns are the Ritual and the Antichrist. I am but a tool to be used with little regard.

I placed my head carefully on the pillow, rolling onto my side to face the door while bringing my limbs as close to my body as I could. “Jophiel," I quietly cried.


	10. On This Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologise for any mistakes - I've been feeling quite rough today.  
> I did try reading the chapter a couple of times and changed what was necessary. Hopefully that was everything!

* * *

 

 

 

A couple of days had passed and I remained in my room. I only moved from my bed to use the facilities or to eat bits of food left on my table. What else could I do? Papa Emeritus would not allow me to leave the building. I could not even leave my room without an escort.

I was not even visited by Jophiel. I wondered what happened to the angel.

Various Ghouls would enter my room unannounced, to make sure I had not escaped again. Except for Omega, I had not seen him since I told him to leave. Perhaps he visited while I slept? No, why would he unless he was commanded to do so?

I needed to get out of that frame of mind, where I thought Omega cared.

I rested my arms on the window sill, staring out at the dark sky. No adjustments were made to the window, so I could just as easily escape as I did previously. But I did not dare. Papa Emeritus probably knew this, hence the lack of bars or glass. It was for the best, because I enjoyed feeling the fresh air on my face, but I did long to leave this place.

To be back at home again. To see my friends, my family and even my sometimes-annoying co-workers. I missed them all. I missed the freedom to do what I wanted, drive to places. They seemed so far away now. They would probably only be a brief reality once again when this demon child destroys the world. At least then I would be free. A prisoner no more.

The door opened, but I did not react. It would just be another Ghoul verifying my presence. I said nothing; remaining taciturn.

This time, however, there were footsteps in my room. This was very unusual, especially as supper had already been brought to me, so there was no reason for a Ghoul to wander.

Maybe it was Omega?

I threw a glance over my shoulder as quickly as I could, a small part of me hoping to see those kind, blue eyes again.

But what I found was nothing of the sort. I only found evil and darkness, staring into that one white eye which erupted terror in me once more. Papa Emeritus.

“Good evening,” he announced, raising both of his hands. I could see that he was holding something; a glass bottle with unidentified liquid rolling around and a long white cloth. “You need to get changed for the Ritual tonight. I also brought you something to calm the nerves.” Papa casually threw the white cloth over my chair by the table before holding up the bottle again, “whiskey.”

The bottle was placed on the table by my bed and it was at that point I noticed it only held about a quarter of the volume it was designed to hold. I looked back up to Papa, unamused but with no will to question.

“I cannot have you being intoxicated on such an important night, so I have restricted what you will have, but should be plenty still.” Papa said, producing a short glass and placing that by the bottle. He then sat on the edge of the bed.

I removed myself from the window and knelt nearby, not wanting to get too close.

“I know you are apprehensive about tonight, but if you want I can make it quick. Well, as quick as anyone can make.” Papa then turned slightly to look at me, expecting some sort of response. A thank you, perhaps?

“Sure,” I answered, with little passion. I had lost the will over the past couple of days, so I was certainly in no mood for conversations about my impending rape.

Papa must have sensed this. He stood and reached for the bottle, twisting the cap off and tilting to release its liquid into the short glass. It was quite a generous portion. Leaving the cap off, he placed the bottle down and handed me the drink, leaning over the bed and staring into my eyes again. I hated that. I absolutely hated that. There was nothing quite so intimidating, especially with such lack of facial expression.

I shot a glance at the drink offered to me. It was a good reason to break eye contact, at least. So I took the glass and placed it to my lips, taking a small mouthful. The drink was strong, I could feel it as soon as it entered my mouth. I swallowed the burning liquid and opened my mouth to bring in some of the cool air, feeling like I would start drooling at any moment.

With no further words from Papa, he straightened himself and gestured to the cloth hanging over the chair. Must be some sort of gown. I would change into that shortly.

Papa then exited the room, leaving me to finish the remainder of my drink.

“Ah,” I said, after swallowing the last of it.

I decided to undress in preparation of wearing this new outfit. It probably would not have been wise to attempt while intoxicated.

I reached behind my neck, freeing the single button holding the top together before removing the dress over my head. I had no bra, just flimsy fabric covering my lower, private region. And socks, which were soon removed. The stone floor stabbed at my bare feet, but it was pleasant. Although with no shield from the outside, I soon started to feel the cold. One more shot of whiskey would not hurt. I did not want to freeze.

There was a mirror in my room, full length. I caught a glance of my naked body in it as I swallowed my drink.

Placing the glass on the table, I approached the mirror and inspected myself. First, my breasts. Not large, but not small either. I cupped my left breast in my right hand, squeezing gently. They were more than a handful for my small hands, anyway.

Compared to the mirror, I seemed quite short in comparison. I probably did only just exceed five feet in height, the mirror stood almost twice as tall. Turning slowly, I looked over my shoulder at my back and then I looked down to my rear. The redness had gone, but there were still signs of bruising. Albeit very faint. I moved my hand from my breast and touched one of my cheeks, applying gentle, increasing pressure to the bruise. It still hurt, but nowhere near as much as it did initially.

I remembered that a Ghoul could enter at any moment, to check again that I had not fled. So that I would not be caught grasping the flesh on the intimate parts of the body, I decided to put on my new outfit.

It was very similar to my previous dress, but this was white with a black inverted cross down the centre. The skirt was A-line and flared out nicely, while the top was fitted.

Now was the time to finish the rest of the whiskey.

“You should not be drinking alcohol, Klara,” came a voice with no warning.

It was a voice I recognised. At last!

“Jophiel?” I choked, looking towards the window. There he was, as beautiful as I remembered. His arms were casually crossed on the window sill, icy blue eyes shining brightly in the dark room. I wondered how he was able to so easily support himself, as opposed to clinging on to the frame. But then I remembered.

“So, you’re an angel?” I asked, keeping close to the bottle of whiskey on the table. I did not know why I refused to approach him; I could only assume that knowing Jophiel was a divine being somewhat intimidated me.

“Yes, Klara,” he responded, never breaking eye contact. His voice made my heart flutter, “I am an angel. A rather disappointed one at that, you did not come with me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” I looked at my glass of whiskey, deciding that I had probably had enough. I was already feeling quite tipsy. “I will come with you now though!” I knelt on the bed, slowly approaching the beautiful angel, crawling less than elegantly no doubt.

However, the angel retreated slightly. “You must willingly leave this chapel, as you did before. I cannot go any further than this window, your room is protected by dark magic. My entry would alert your friends,” Jophiel pouted, while gesturing for me to climb through the window, “But if you jump, I will catch you.”

Still out of arm’s length from the window, I reconsidered. I was not sure how willing I was to jump from my position, even if I would not fall. It was terrifying. I turned away from Jophiel, trying to think without looking at his beautiful face.

“Come now Klara, you can trust me,” the angel beckoned, holding out his hands but making sure they did not cross the threshold. As he did, his holy light beamed and filled my room; it transformed everything before my eyes. Paintings, carpet, pretty wall paper and more. It absolutely amazed me what this angel had the power to do. I was mesmerised.

“I trust you,” I spoke, crawling towards the window while gazing into his eyes. Every time I extended my arm for him, I couldn’t quite reach. Even perched on the window sill, I still could not grasp his waiting hands.

“Jump and I will catch you. Then this will all be over,” he purred, smiling lovingly while motioning me forward with his fingers.

“Okay, I will jump,” I said obediently, placing my feet firmly on the window sill and bringing myself to stand. I only had to crouch slightly to avoid hitting my head, it was fortunately a generously sized window. Even as I looked outside, everything looked beautiful as it did by the pond that night. Sunshine and nature, it made me feel so happy.

But happiness turned to despair when I was pulled backwards from the window. I fell onto the bed, my feet no longer in contact with even the wall. I tried to get up again, but was unable. Something was holding me down and I started to panic, flailing my arms and kicking my legs.

“Klara, snap out of it!” I heard. “Klara!” Then my eyes opened, or rather adjusted to the sad reality of what really surrounded me. It was a Ghoul holding me down, kneeling over my stomach and pinning me at the shoulders. It was Omega. I would recognise his blue eyes anywhere.

“Damnit, Klara! What were you thinking?” Omega barked, showing no signs of releasing me. “How could you think of taking your own life? Do you know what would happen? Do you know how precious you are?”

I was taken aback. Did the Ghoul really think I was precious? And why did he think I was going to commit suicide? Perhaps he did not see Jophiel; it was probably for the best.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I said, relaxing under Omega’s body, still looking beyond the mask to his eyes. They were narrowed and looked angry. I had never seen them like that. Did he really care? About me? Or just his Master’s plan?

His hand, bare, caressed my cheek. He felt warm, which was unlike him. I could also feel the heat radiating from his body unto me. More so when Omega leaned forward, his face close to mine. I could also feel something surprisingly firm pressing into my stomach. I had a good idea of what it was and it excited me, especially with Omega pinning me to the bed and staring wildly into my eyes. I could feel my heart pounding; I was getting so turned on by this demonic Ghoul on top of me.

“Klara, I,” Omega started to say.

“Ahem,” came another voice. “I thought she was getting fucked by Papa, not you Omega?” Another Ghoul, standing with his arms folded in the door way.

I think I blushed. It was not until Omega removed himself from me that I noticed my dress was around my waist. How awkward.

“Just making sure she’s ready, Alpha,” Omega joked. I could hear the laughter in his voice; it hurt.

“Ha,” exclaimed Alpha, turning to leave his position. “Well Papa is ready and waiting, so she had better be ready.”


	11. Of Ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will presume that the majority if not all of you are fans of Ghost. So I will tell you now that you should recognise some of Papa's lines in this chapter.
> 
> For those who might not be familiar with the band Ghost, some words were taken from the song Ritual.
> 
> Enjoy

* * *

 

 

 

Needless to say, I had to be literally dragged back to the chapel’s altar room. I shouted all kinds of profanity at Omega, who had been unwavering in his delivering of me. No matter how much I protested. I dug my heels into the floor, attempted to smack him away, even tried to kick him. Nothing worked, he never relinquished his hold.

Before I knew it, I was standing before the altar, looking up at Papa Emeritus who stood at the summit of the steps. His usual attire had changed, he now resembled some kind of dark, Satanic pope, complete with a mitre. How very fitting, I thought to myself.

The smell of incense assaulted my nostrils and even stung my eyes, despite the amount of moisture that had already formed while en route. The candles also casted a flickering, dim glow throughout, in absence of proper lighting. If I did not know my fate, I probably would have appreciated its charm.

But now I was scared. No, I was absolutely petrified with a hint of intoxication. I was not sure if that dampened my feelings slightly or amplified them.

Fortunately, the more I inhaled the incense, the more lightheaded I felt. Escape would not be possible; while I was brought in I noticed the room was filled with many Ghouls. All anonymous. It was very bizarre. But I could not see them now, my back was to them. Even Omega who still held on to me by my arms.

Papa Emeritus gestured for me to approach to him, to ascend the stairs and take his place by the altar.

I refused to move.

At least of my own free will; Omega had to forcefully guide me up the steps until Papa’s hands grasped my lower arms. I then felt Omega’s touch no longer.

Heart pounding, I stared up into Papa’s eyes. No matter how much I wanted to look into his more human eye, I could not help but stare into the demonic white eye. It seemed softer than what I was used to, but still incredibly haunting. Papa did not stare for long before he gazed at his audience.

“Tonight,” he announced abruptly, “we’re summoned for a divine cause.” I watched his eyes scan the Ghouls before him, while I was feeling increasingly lightheaded with little energy. It was either the drink or the incense. Either should hopefully make the experience more tolerable at least. How would it happen? What would be involved? Torture?

My mind started to wonder, first back to Omega. Did I imagine his hardness? Would I have responded to it? Well, a little more than getting a bit excited and wet anyway. What would it have been like if he penetrated me? Did demonic sex feel any different to human sex? Did demons have the necessary equipment to copulate?

I could feel the warmth down below again, the moisture as well.

I was only brought back to reality when Papa shook me a little, obviously still addressing the crowd, “to procreate the unholy bastard!”

The Ghouls cheered and clapped, to which Papa nodded before guiding me to the other side of the altar, towards the back of the room. To steady myself, I placed my hands on the cloth. It felt like cotton. As if that mattered.

“Our Father, who art in Hell. Unhallowed be thy name,” Papa suddenly chanted, relinquishing his hold on me to raise his arms in the air. His shadow was cast on the soft, white cotton cloth. “Cursed be the sons and daughters of thy nemesis who are to blame,” he continued. It sounded quite terrifying, Papa’s voice echoing. He definitely had the ability to project his voice.

Papa Emeritus resumed while I stared at the Ghouls, wondering where Omega was. “Thy kingdom come. Nema!” The Ghouls had even joined Papa with prayer at the end, some even raising their hands as well. It seemed just like a normal church mass, albeit incredibly Satanic.

A nameless Ghoul then approached, but not from the crowd before me. He must have been elsewhere. In his hands were two chalices which were placed on the altar. One contained a rich, dark red liquid. The other was empty.

Papa took the chalice of liquid and held it up briefly, prior to handing it to me. “Drink the wine,” he whispered.

I may have already been a bit drunk, but I was not about to turn down some wine. I drank it all in a single mouthful. I had a feeling I would be needing plenty more.

While I was focused on my drink, I did not register that Papa had taken my left arm until I felt a sharp, cold pain across my wrist. I squeezed the chalice in my other hand and clenched my jaw, looking to what caused the awful sensation.

Blood. There was blood running from my wrist.

Papa held my wrist over the empty chalice, allowing the blood to paint the inside. Before I could react, either the same Ghoul or a completely different one – but not Omega – approached and took my arm. He brandished a bandage of some sort, so I allowed him to maintain his hold while I leered at Papa. The bastard! Drinking my blood as well!

He looked at me once he had consumed the blood and flashed a smile, “I consume something of yours, you consume something of mine.”

I started to feel rather sick.

No sooner had the Ghoul tied my wrist and backed away, Papa pulled me over the altar; face down. I nearly consumed the cloth that was sprawled over it, stopping myself by slamming my hands down to brace.

In my panic, I did not retaliate when Papa lifted my dress and carefully folded it over my back. I thought back to a couple of days ago when I had experienced this and shuddered. Was he going to spank me again? In front of all of these Ghouls?

Then I felt his fingers grip the band of my underwear after his nails scratched at me. I felt flesh, as opposed to fabric. He must have removed one of his gloves. No sooner had I made the realisation, the clothing that protected my private region was torn off in a single swipe, snapping at the force.

I tried to stand, but Papa pushed me back against the altar with his hand, effortlessly. I could not allow this, to be humiliated in front of the faceless creatures watching in anticipation.

“Stop, please don’t do this! Please!” I begged, panting and still resisting Papa’s strength.

Before I could continue, I saw a flash of white before my eyes and then I was silenced by Papa placing a piece of cloth in my mouth. The cotton rubbed against my teeth and dried my mouth quickly; it felt awful. I was no longer allowed to verbally protest, I could only make muffled noises.

In the audience, I looked for Omega. I was too far to make out the calming blue eyes of his, with all the eyes on me. They all looked the same, especially with the incense still burning. But one. One Ghoul did not watch, could that have been Omega? Unable to save me, but refusing to watch?

I jumped and moaned through the cloth in my mouth, eyes widening in shock. Papa had roughly inserted a finger in to my vagina, moving it around while he was inside. It did not hurt, probably because of all the alcohol. Or the fact that I was very, very wet. I was quite ashamed.

I tried to remain outraged, but it felt rather nice. More than nice. It had been a while since I last experienced anything like this; I had almost forgotten how amazing it felt.

Papa then removed his finger for a moment, but entered again with at least one more digit. I gasped, pushing the cloth with my tongue which had become soaked with my saliva. If Papa had removed his hand from my back, I would have probably shuddered in response to his entry.

I could feel how well lubricated I was, so there was very little friction. In the quietness of the chapel, I could even hear it.

But I did not want this. I did not want Papa. I did not want the audience. My body had betrayed me by signalling the contrary, accommodating the fingers nicely while my own grasped at the cloth covering the altar.

Then the fingers were removed. My genitalia felt cold, probably a combination of the cool air and the juices escaping me. I continued to lay still on the altar, panting.

Murmurs and whispers could be heard from the Ghouls, but I could not see them, my eyes instead focused to my left as my right cheek was pressed firmly onto the cloth. Especially as I felt Papa’s weight on my back, feeling his breath caress my ear.

“When I enter you again, you _will_ feel it. And it _will_ hurt,” Papa warned.

I was then suddenly entered again, this time it did not feel like Papa’s fingers. It was something much larger, it reached much further and it hurt!

I moaned loudly, in pleasure and pain, closing my eyes tightly as I pulled the cloth once more. Papa Emeritus, this demon like being, wanted to conceive the unholy child in front of all these watching eyes. After I was hoping it would be a private affair at least.

No, I did not want it at all. I did not.

As Papa pulled in and out slowly, my mind changed focus. The pain started to fade and his penis felt breath-taking inside of me. The tingling sensation ran up my spine and messed with my head, making it feel quite fuzzy.

I did not want to get pregnant. I did not want to produce the Antichrist. Apart from that, I think I was even starting to enjoy myself.

Papa’s hands moved to either side of my hips, his fingers gripping my pelvis firmly.

The thrusting then got harder. Much harder. His hips were forced harshly into my rear, pushing me firmly against the altar and causing me to scream. As well as I could with a mouth full of cloth.

I could have removed the cloth myself to aid my breathing, but I did not want to scream; that would have no doubt satisfied Papa Emeritus and his nameless Ghouls. That and it probably would not have left my mouth for long and I preferred having the option to remove it rather than be unable.

As the speed increased as well, it became too much. I could not take it; it was more pain than pleasure. That and the material in my mouth did not allow me to take in the oxygen that my body now demanded. I felt that my cheek would burn due to the friction against the cloth and that Papa’s nails would pierce my flesh.

Papa did not relent. He ignored my muffled cries of pain and the fabric beneath my face getting soaked with my tears. Between my moaning, I could only hear the occasional grunt and sigh from him. I no longer noticed or cared about the Ghouls watching. Nobody could help me now, it was too late.

I tensed, trying to slow the thrusting by squeezing his hard penis with my vaginal wall, but it only made the sensation worse for me. Instead I tried to raise the upper half of my body with my hands, finally mustering the energy, in hope that the less my body was angled the more tolerable the pushing would be.

Then it slowed and I breathed a sigh of relief, closing my eyes and releasing the altar’s cloth from my hands.

Papa helped to support me by sliding his right hand under my stomach, while his left pulled the wet cloth from my mouth. At last.

I took full advantage and commenced panting heavily, muttering, “oh God.”

“Wrong deity,” Papa corrected, smoothly removing strands of hair that stuck to my damp face. He then leaned in closer, this time being considerate as to not press my body too hard against the altar. “Now, I need you to cum,” he whispered. “If you can cum for me, you will be greatly rewarded.”

I could finally collect my thoughts, amongst the heavy breathing and Papa’s words. I remembered; I supposedly had to open myself to receive Lucifer’s energy, but I had no idea that I had to bring myself to orgasm. With being that abducted, imprisoned and now forced to have intercourse. How was I supposed to achieve the ultimate pleasure in such circumstances?

My heart pounded, even though the pushing slowed almost to a stop. I tried to think what I could do to help the situation, to prevent this farce continuing for much longer. It would be almost impossible to imagine myself away from this place, to imagine Papa Emeritus was someone else and I was never much of an exhibitionist.

“Perhaps I can help,” Papa whispered, straightening himself and sliding his un-gloved hand between my legs; between my lips.

My breathing was under control suddenly and I felt myself tense in anticipation, creating more pressure for Papa’s still hard phallus. His response was to more firmly massage my clitoris while ripping his other glove from his hand with his teeth; it probably would have been almost seductive if I saw it.

His newly uncovered hand made its way up my dress, slithering towards my chest and grasping firmly. I gasped, but in pleasure from the combination. I could feel my strong heartbeat pound against Papa’s hand and wondered if he could feel it too. Would he have even noticed something like that?

My elbows were locked in place and my back was arched as far as it could comfortably go. I closed my eyes and tried to forget the circumstances for which I was here, allowing the wonderful sensations to be a priority.

“There’s a good girl,” Papa spoke, running his hand from my breast back to my hip. “If you cum for me, I will owe you guerdon, but if you’re a bad girl then I will have to punish you,” he added, with a menacing growl.

Much to my surprise, his words excited me and I quivered with the pleasure. Even if it was due to the alcohol and mild asphyxiation. So thrilled I felt that I was already close to peaking and started to moan, allowing my jaw to fall and the heavy breathing to resume.

The hand lost contact with my hip and instead seized my hair, forcing my head back; my spine must have created a remarkable curve.

“Ah!” I groaned, tugging the cloth on the altar as the thrusting gradually became more intense. I was much more prepared this time, even contracting to amplify the sensitivity which soon became an involuntary action. I was close, just a little more..

“Unleash,” Papa commanded, rubbing my clitoris vigorously and keeping pace with his other movements.

Finally! I almost screamed and my muscles seemed to randomly contract throughout my body, holding before releasing; repeating. I felt such enormous relief, energy and weakness at the same time. My legs were shaking, as were my arms.

As I realised that Papa had stopped, I felt a burst of vitality flowing to every part of my body. The intensity was rapidly escalating and I doubted that I could contain it, still held between Papa and the altar with no immediate escape. My heart rate was out of control, my breathing incredibly laboured and my vision blurred. What was happening?

But I felt no fear, no anguish. On the contrary, I felt unbelievable and indestructible. My skin became increasingly more sensitive to Papa’s touch; feeling of hyperreflexia and slowing of time.

And then everything went black.


	12. Magic Potion

* * *

 

 

 

I slowly opened my eyes and yawned, feeling half asleep. I was staring up at the high ceiling, oblivious as I stretched in bed, pulling the covers closer to my neck before rolling over on my right side.

I could see Papa Emeritus, sitting at a desk near the bed. He looked right at me and then I realised.

Suddenly I was very awake and very confused.

“Sleeping beauty awakens,” Papa mocked, diverting his attention back to his book and turning a page. He sat with his legs crossed, parallel to his desk and no longer in his demon pope attire. The candlelight coloured the left side of his face and upper body, leaving the rest shrouded in darkness. The rest of the room was very dark, even more so than outside.

I tried to remember how I got to the bed, my mind picking up speed despite feeling drunk.

The chapel, the altar. I remembered facing numerous Ghouls while Papa Emeritus fucked me from behind. The tears and the pain, but not much else.

“Where am I?” I asked, too afraid to move other than to further curl up under the covers, pressing them to my mouth. The material was like Egyptian cotton, feeling beautiful at least. This was definitely not my designated bed!

There was a small delay before Papa closed his book and returned his attention to me, collecting his hands in his lap. “You are in my bed. To my annoyance, you have occupied it for a good few months.”

I was absolutely stunned. That could not be right! Had I really been asleep for a few months? I immediately sat up and noticed I was naked. I had no idea really why I was embarrassed, but I felt the need to cover myself urgently with the sheets, arching my knees to help hold them in place.

Papa merely rolled his eyes with a tut.

“Have I.. have I really been asleep for that long?” I asked and started to worry immensely about how much time might have passed in the real world. If it could really be called that. I rubbed my head in a feeble attempt to comprehend; elbow resting on my knee.

Then a moment of horror as I wondered if I was pregnant and how far along!

“My dear, you have been unconscious for about an hour, heh heh,” Papa confessed; I could hear a grin in his voice as well. He enjoyed mocking me. “Do you think I would have allowed you to inhabit _my_ bed for that long?”

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, slamming my fist into the bed, not amused in the slightest.

“Yes, we did. We had something going, but then you fell asleep on me. Fortunately, for my ego, that is the one and only time it has happened.” At least Papa seemed to be in a jovial mood, breaking tradition.

What happened, I wondered. I could not recall ever falling asleep on a partner previously. I could not even remember falling asleep most recently. I was not sure whether to feel embarrassed or relieved, given how my memories were not exactly pleasant.

“Alas, I was too much for you, dear,” Papa continued, drumming his gloved fingers on the surface of his desk. “I may have released too much energy, just a tiny tad. That or my talents are too _wild_ for you.”

It was hard not to be slightly entertained, especially as I did not want Papa to revert back to his less humorous self. I tried to hide my growing smile in the sheets, keeping my eyes to myself. I began to remember the more joyous scenes from the Ritual, feeling my cheeks starting to burn.

“Ah hah, you do not disagree at least,” Papa uncrossed his legs and stood, distracting me from my thoughts. He lifted a chalice from his desk and breathed its scent, approaching the bed moments later and offering it to me.

I was suspicious, arching my eyebrow in display as I glanced between the chalice and the face void of emotion. The white eye always seemed to grab my attention, more than anything else about him. It always made me anxious.

“It will make you feel better. Drink up so you can go frolic, or something like that,” Papa reassured, extending his arm further for me to take the mysterious drink.

I presumed it was in my best interest to take the liquid; no doubt I would be forced to if I resisted. Rolling my eyes, I took the chalice and had a sniff; it had a faint, berry like aroma to it and looked like plain water. I tested with a small sip and it was agreeable, so I quickly consumed the remainder. I was surprisingly thirsty.

Papa still remained by the bed, so I returned the chalice, thanking him as he checked to see if it was empty.

“Very good,” he praised, perhaps for the first time since I first encountered him. “That was the last of the energy you will require to create the spawn of Satan. I did promise I could make it easy, after all.” Papa turned his back, placing the chalice back on his desk.

I think I was getting used to Papa, I was hardly surprised at the confession.

“Now, I will go bring some clothing and nourishment, you humans seem to enjoy that I understand,” Papa chuckled, heading for the door without so much as a glance back. “Feel free to remove yourself from my bed in the meantime,” he added as he left.

I do not remember Papa Emeritus ever confirming who or what he was exactly and even though I doubted that he was a human, it was still strange to hear myself being referred to as such; as if I was the odd one.

Another essential pastime that humans enjoyed was sleeping, so I decided to take advantage of my situation and snuggled beneath the covers again. I felt more secure in Papa’s room as opposed to my own, which was void of everything. It was either because of Papa himself or because I was still physically exhausted. Most likely the latter.

I would drift off before Papa returned.


	13. Absent

* * *

 

 

 

When I next woke, I could feel a body next to me, behind me; pushed up against mine. I slowly turned to investigate, quickly finding the beautiful blue eyes of Omega. Relieved, I smiled and rolled onto my back, getting a better look of him.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Omega asked, carefully brushing strands of my hair away from my face, running his fingers sensually along my scalp as he guided the hair.

“Very well,” I responded, breathing slowly and deeply at Omega’s touch. “Did you? Do you even sleep at all?”

“No,” Omega said, moving his hand under my chin. “Demons don’t sleep.”

It made sense, but I still found it odd. Why the beds, if demons did not require sleep?

“Papa Emeritus said that perhaps you would like to go for a walk? You have been cooped up for a while now, which must be frustrating for you. I could maybe show you around? Outside?” Omega offered, much to my delight.

“Outside?” I asked, sitting up. I glanced to the window and noticed it seemed lighter than normal, much more inviting. It would be delightful to leave this prison, even if only for a short while. Perhaps in the day’s brightness I could figure out where exactly I was.

“Absolutely,” I added cheerfully.

 

Omega and I had been walking for some time, but the chapel always remained in sight. This time shrouded in sunshine, it no longer had a haunting look. It looked just like any other chapel. I was also surprised at the sun above, as I did not recall ever seeing it since my arrival here. Did I just sleep during the day instead? Really?

I stopped, Omega soon after. My legs were too tired to keep walking and I was almost panting; my time as a prisoner had done wonders for my heath, it seemed.

“Are you okay?” The demon asked. “Do you want to go back?”

“No,” I immediately responded, shaking my head. I had forgotten how nice the sun’s rays felt, how satisfying the fresh air. It was far too lovely to retire to the chapel, despite my tiredness.

I lowered myself to the ground, stretching my bare legs in front of me. I realised I was still wearing a night gown, but it mattered not. The fine fabric was perfect for this weather and Omega and I were alone. I did not even see another Ghoul upon our exit. No Papa Emeritus either.

I gestured for Omega to join me, but he managed only to crouch at my feet.

“Klara,” he said, blue eyes shining beautifully in the light; it was enough to ease all my concerns. “I know you want me. I can smell it in your scent whenever we get close,” his arm extended to lay his hand on my leg, while I merely froze in embarrassment. “Would you like to try it with me? To have sex?” He asked, never breaking eye contact.

I thought his proposal was rather sweet, especially for a demon. It was not exactly how I planned it to happen, but I was not going to complain.

Did I really plan for it to happen? My subconscious, maybe?

Omega started to stroke my leg; starting from my shin before fondling my inner knee. I kept my eyes on his, not moving. I had to respond, but I could not. It was probably the trauma from my recent activities that stopped me, but I did not want to say no. I would not mean it if I did.

I thought about my feelings for Omega, if one could call it that. He was the kindest to me, completely different to the others. I felt warm and safe in his presence, melancholy when not. I was sure that I could not have been in love with him, I did not know much about him. I had not even seen what was behind his mask, or even asked why he wore it. But those eyes, those delightful blue eyes aroused something in me.

I put my hand on his and the caressing ceased. “Omega,” I said. Even his name filled me with joy. I took a moment to reconsider, I did not want to regret what I was about to say or do.

But I thought that I might have preferred regret for doing something, rather than missing an opportunity.

I pulled his hand closer to my body, sliding it up my leg, my inner thigh. “I want you,” I finally answered.

Without wasting another moment, Omega gently laid me down; his eyes smiling at me. His fingertips delicately stroked my neck before slowly gliding over to my breasts.

His touch felt wonderful, but I found myself attempting to guess his abilities and then thinking of Papa Emeritus. Papa seemed to know what he was doing; would Omega have the same knowledge? Had Omega done this before?

My mind turned to the Omega before me, on top of and looking down at me. His right hand was removed from my breast to join the other at my thighs, slowly pulling them open. My heart pounded, clutching at the grass beneath me in anticipation. What was he going to do?

His finger teased my vagina, which was not hidden by any further garments, and I noticed that I was already quite wet. I tensed, expecting to be penetrated at any moment. I waited on tenterhooks as Omega’s blue eyes diverted to my lower region; he sighed.

As the first digit entered, I moaned and lowered myself completely to the grass, stretching my arms above my head. As the first probed, it was soon joined by a second, gently widening the passage.

“Oh, Omega,” I groaned. “Omega.”

“Klara?” This voice was not of Omega’s, but shockingly familiar.

I turned my attention away from Omega and found Jophiel, the angel, watching us. It was terrible timing, as much as I was happy to see my saviour. I wanted my time with the dark, mysterious Omega but I also wanted to escape with the light bringer. I felt absolutely torn.

Jophiel did not appear to be merry. “So here you are, at last. Cavorting with a demon though? Interesting,” spoke the angel, without an attempt to hide his disappointment. “I thought you wanted to be with me? To run away from the likes of _him_?”

Omega removed his hand from within me and growled at his adversary.

“No!” I exclaimed, hurriedly standing. “I mean, yes. But I,” my mind raced, but I did not know what to say. I was confused. Of course I wanted to leave this place, this hell. But I did not want to leave Omega. The mere thought of saying goodbye made my heart break.

“So, you want to go with him?” Asked Omega, practically leaping to his feet.

“Yes, but I don’t want to leave you either,” I hastened to add, jumping up and embracing Omega in my arms. “I really like you, Omega, but I want to go home. Maybe you could come with me?”

Omega disconnected from me, taking a step back. “No, I cannot.”

His words more than stung. I looked into the blue eyes I so enjoyed but they no longer seemed the same; they were void of any emotion and even appeared to dim before me.

Before I could try and rectify the mess, Omega’s eyes widened and he groaned before collapsing to the ground at my feet. Jophiel stood in his place, holding a bloodied knife.

Jophiel had plunged the blade into Omega’s back and now the demon was motionless.

I fell to my knees, staring at the silver mask.

“Omega?” I called, quietly. I tried to move him, hoping he would regain consciousness.

But nothing happened. Omega had no life in him.

I started to cry, forgetting about Jophiel. I moved to Omega’s side and grabbed his arms, shaking him in vain.

“NO!” I wailed, closing my eyes and forcing more tears to run down my face.

 

“Klara!” A voice called, but I did not want to look. I wanted the ground to just open and swallow me.

“Klara!” The voice again.

I opened my eyes to see Papa Emeritus’s face close to mine and everything was dark.

I screamed in fright and even Papa was startled, forcing himself back from me in hurry.

For a few moments, everything was quiet. I quickly adjusted to my surroundings – I was in bed, Papa’s bed. No grass, no sunshine. I was back in Papa’s room it appeared.

“Bad dream?” Papa simply asked, perched at the side of the bed next to me.

A dream? It was just a dream? No, it was a horrible nightmare. Thank God that was all it was.

“You were asleep by the time I returned,” Papa spoke, not moving from his position. “But I could hear you moaning and groaning in your sleep, so thought I would keep an eye on you.”

I thought that was rather considerate of Papa.


	14. Under The Mask

* * *

 

 

 

Why did Papa Emeritus have to go and spoil the moment?

“I was most disappointed with what I could hear. _Omega, Omega_!” He mocked, chanting the name in a much higher pitch. “ _Oh, Omega_!”

“Stop it!” I hissed, turning my back on Papa as I moved over to my side. I was embarrassed to know that I had been talking in my sleep, even more so as Papa joked. It did not amuse me at all.

At least there was no mention of Jophiel.

Papa put his hand on my shoulder and my hairs stood on end, but I did not move.

“My dear, I take no offense. I actually grew a bit concerned when you started to writhe. I suspected you were having a nightmare, so tried to wake you. I bet you were relieved to see my face.”

Tears formed in my eyes, I could not help it. My heart was pained by Omega’s death, even though it was just a dream. The pain was very much real and I could not relieve myself of it. What would I do without Omega? How would I cope? What would become of me? Jophiel made me feel great when I encountered him, but it was not the same feeling I got from Omega. Omega ignited something different, something special.

Then my focus turned to Jophiel. Would an angel really kill a demon? Was that even possible? The two were natural enemies, so I did not doubt that a confrontation would end abominably. Omega most likely would not hesitate to destroy Jophiel either.

“Come, my dear,” Papa spoke, forcing me to turn to him. He must have seen the evidence of my tears. “Don’t cry, child. I am always here for you, whatever you need.”

I sat up, sniffling, as I tried to focus on Papa’s eyes. It was too dark to notice his more human looking eye, so I could only target the demonic white one. It still made me feel nervous, but Papa reassured me by taking my hands in his.

“I know I am probably still the bad guy here,” Papa said, rubbing my hands with his gloved thumbs, “but you can talk to me about anything. I will not judge you, as long as you do not test my patience.”

In defiance of the warning, I started to feel better. I found myself comforted by Papa’s words. I removed my hands from his and threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I once did previously. I tried not to cry more, but I could not help it. I was not even sure if my tears reflected my sadness, or some kind of uncontrollable relief at Papa’s words.

I did not even care that I was still naked. I just needed to feel safe; the discomfort from the nightmare still lingered.

Papa removed me from the bed, lifting me to sit in his lap. He did not try to undo the embrace, just rubbed my back and stroked my hair in an attempt to relax me. “It’s okay, my dear,” he cooed, gently rocking back and forth.

As my tears stopped, I wondered how Papa could be so comforting, given what he was. Or what I assumed he was. Did demons ever cry? Could they? Had Papa ever had to comfort someone in such a state? I could not imagine him ever having to be reassured, to be the vulnerable one.

“Tell me,” Papa interrupted my thoughts, “you must have some questions? About me? The Ghouls? This place? I will answer honestly.”

I was definitely interested and wasted no time in thinking of my queries. It was a welcomed distraction. I relaxed my grip and nuzzled my cheek into Papa’s shoulder, his right hand came to rest on my knee while his left still supported my back.

“What are you?” I asked quietly, hoping that my question would not offend Papa. This time I was genuine, in the absence of fear and anger.

“I am a demon,” Papa answered simply. “But I presume you already knew that.”

I did, I knew it.

“But your form is human-like?” I pried further.

“For your sake, yes. I think you would appreciate my true form even less so,” Papa smiled. I could not see his smile, but I felt the muscles beneath his skin tense. “It is repulsive.”

“Did you forget about your face?”

“I like my face,” Papa responded, the muscles tensing again. “I did not want to be too human looking. I still wanted to keep some of my identity.”

I was quite enlightened. Still I was curious to know what his true form was, but Papa had not told me so far, so I moved on. “And the Ghouls?”

“The Ghouls are naturally human looking, as they are in a lower class of demons. But their faces are not. For your sake, I hope you never see what they really look like. Not that you would be able to remove their masks yourself.”

Peculiar, I was most definitely curious. What did Omega look like under his mask? Would I be too terrified? Sickened? The mystery was likely to be for the best.

“Where is this place?” I asked, deciding to move on with my questioning.

I noticed Papa was reluctant to answer, which concerned me. I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at him, searching for his demonic eye. A few seconds later he made eye contact, the eye gleaming.

“Hell,” he answered, tone bland.

I frowned, aghast at his words.

“My child, I have brought you to Hell. Judging by your expression, you have heard of it. But I suspect you did not imagine it like this?” Papa glanced towards the window, looking out to the night sky. The almost permanent night sky.

No, it was not how I imagined Hell at all. I expected fire, excessive heat, demonic creatures tormenting deceased humans for their sins. Not cold and dark, inhabited by a Satanic pope and his Ghouls. Perhaps the latter was not too far from what I imagined, really.

Papa must have sensed my confusion. “This is a special part of my realm that was created for you. It was designed to have a calming influence with little distraction. It certainly worked a charm, because you were nothing but civil upon your arrival, eh?”

I chuckled. I was quite hostile, but that was more Papa’s doing rather than the environment. I chose not to remind him of that.

So, this was Papa Emeritus’s private Hell.

“Oh, you do not deny, then? You were most belligerent,” Papa squeezed my knee, startling me but causing me to laugh, losing track of all my thoughts.

“In regards to your pregnancy,” Papa resumed, becoming more serious. “The little one will grow quickly, you will not be carrying him for as long as you would a human baby. While you are here, you will experience no ill symptoms, although birthing may be uncomfortable. I will try to ease any pain you might have.”

I would have preferred to not think about the spawn of Satan growing inside me, the very idea made me feel sick; evoking that this child would mean the end of humanity and it filled me with dread. Was this how the world had to end? At the hands of the Antichrist? Did humanity not deserve another chance? It would be such a shame; there were many good people that would suffer.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” I said, frowning at Papa. “Why does this have to happen? It is a horrible thing to inflict on us.”

Yes, us. Because I was human. Would I suffer the same fate as my fellow man? Or would I be excluded from destruction?

“It is fair,” Papa responded. “There is no hope for humanity anymore. Even the ruling but absent _God_ has had enough. We are merely speeding up the apocalypse.”

It sounded awful, but I tried to understand. Humanity did have many fine moments, but also horrific. The wars, the politics; no regard for each other. I had always thought that those in charge treated life as a game, a twisted game of power and greed at the expense of the peasants. Perhaps there was no other way to change that. Perhaps all humans who possessed such power were doomed to suffer the same fate as all those before. Was it just human nature?

“And why me?” I asked, looking down into my lap. “Why did you even need a human to go through this? Could Lucifer not just create his son without all of this?”

“Our Master can create demons, but this child must be part human. He needs a soul which comes from God. I will tell you why, but not today.” Papa’s hand held my chin gently, forcing me to look at him while I was still puzzled at why God would give a soul to the prince of darkness. “And you, mainly because you have a good heart. Lucifer chose you, despite your flaws and doubts. He has faith and believes in you. And forgives you.”

I was somewhat touched, but my heart sank at the same time. I did not know how to feel about everything again. If my heart was supposedly good, was it Lucifer’s intention to corrupt it? To corrupt me? Am I destined to be evil like him? I did not want to be, the very concept frightened and disturbed me. I had a temper and sometimes said things I did not mean, but I could never think of myself as even remotely evil.

How did Lucifer even find me? Know of my existence? How much had he seen of my life?

“Now,” Papa spoke, gently patting my back. “I think you should go to your Omega. I am sure he would be interested in finishing what he started in your dream.”


	15. Together As One

* * *

 

 

 

I sat in the altar room on the stone floor, having found my pre-Ritual dress, next to the very place I encountered Papa Emeritus in his glory during the Ritual. Since leaving Papa’s room, unfortunately I was unable to locate Omega. Or any of the Ghouls. My only company was the occasional creak from somewhere; perhaps one of the wooden beams above.

At least the silence gave me time to think. I was sure I would come across Omega at some point, so how would I initiate things? This was assuming that Omega would even be interested. But what if he was? Would I be blunt? Coy? Did these lesser demons even come equipped?

Of course, Omega did. I felt it once before. Unless that was something else. A tail, perhaps?

I sighed. What would I do? And what about Jophiel?

I still wanted to go back home, get back to my normal life, but my interest in the angel was dwindling. I knew it was because of Omega. I just needed to feed my curiosity, then perhaps I would go back to Jophiel.

I realised I sounded so fickle.

I turned to look behind me, gazing at the backdrop behind the altar. It did look quite beautiful, if one could ignore the blatant Satanic imagery. The glass design consisted of five, different panels. In the centre, the largest, Satan was grasping what looked like a sword. Dressed in a lilac, featuring a mitre with an inverted cross. And two horns protruded from his head. I stared at the eyes, dark with white pupils.

Before I could study the other panels, I was interrupted by footsteps. Quickly I turned to see Omega and my face lit up.

“Klara,” Omega greeted with a small bow of his head. “Papa Emeritus said that you were looking for me?” He approached urgently and I wondered what else Papa might have said.

“Yes, I,” I paused, scolding myself for not thinking through what I was going to say. “I had a dream,” I added.

Omega took a seat next to me. “I know. So, you want to have sex? Am I right?”

That was unexpectedly blunt and awkward. I could feel my face burning, I must have been blushing. I was tongue-tied and could think of nothing to say in response.

Omega chuckled, it sounded adorable. “I’m sorry, I was advised that humans like a bit more romance.” He could obviously see my embarrassment.

His hands then rested on my shoulders, his blue eyes glistening as they looked into mine. Gently, he guided me to the floor, laying me on my back. I did not resist. He then climbed on top of me, like on the night of the Ritual when he hauled me from the window. I could not see his face, but I knew his eyes were smiling. It was contagious. I then felt something hard pressed against my stomach, just like that night previous.

“Klara,” he started, making me giggle. “I like you. I enjoy your company. Your eyes. Your personality, although unstable sometimes.”

I took that as a compliment, unable to stop grinning at the demon over me.

“I would like to enjoy you more,” Omega added. “I want to express my appreciation of you by fucking you. I want to make you scream with pleasure.”

Suddenly it felt like my entire body blushed. I briefly wondered if his words were his, but they worked their magic regardless. I felt ready to take Omega into me; I craved it.

“Omega,” but the demon put his finger to my lips, stopping me. His hand then relocated to my lower region, finding my treasure unhidden under my black dress. His index finger carefully parted the way to my clitoris and beyond, teasing me with gentle stimulation.

I realised I had been waiting for this moment for some time, thus was in no mood for any foreplay. Mentally or physically; I could feel how wet I was becoming.

“Fuck me now, Omega!” I exclaimed, stretching my arms out to my sides and arching my knees.

Omega did not need to be told twice. Moments later, I could feel the tip of his penis – it tantalised my entry for longer than I could stand. When he finally penetrated, I tilted my head back against the cold floor and moaned, trying not to tense to allow Omega to completely fill me. After a few seconds, I realised how different he felt compared to what I was used to. His penis felt ribbed, but this only enhanced the sensation, so I did not question it.

Slowly, Omega increased his momentum, almost pulling out completely before plunging back in. The movements were repeated until the friction had essentially disappeared. Omega then started to pound harder, shoving my body slightly against the floor.

I moaned louder, closing my eyes tightly. This was far more pleasurable than even I imagined.

The thrusting had slowed and Omega stroked the back of my thighs before raising them, manoeuvring my ankles to rest on his shoulders. He then angled himself towards me, creating more pressure in my pelvic region as he put his hands to the floor. I opened my eyes and glanced into his, gently biting my lower lip in anticipation.

The demon did not disappoint. The first thrust was sharp and hard, taking my breath away. The pushing kept pace and I found myself fondling my clitoris in pursuit of increasing my satisfaction further, tensing involuntary occasionally.

“Oh. F-fuck,” I muttered, wincing and twitching as Omega continued to pound me, in time with my own heartbeat.

Then I peaked, screaming in delight which caused Omega to be more aggressive, growling as he clawed my leg. Within moments, the sensations caused my entire body to quiver; every once in a while, too sensitive to tolerate the contact until Omega finally relented and released his hard penis from me. Even that tickled me.

“Omega,” I panted, scratching at the stone floor. “You… felt divine.”

The Ghoul chuckled, carefully removing my legs from his shoulders and placing them on the floor. “I am divine.” He then joined me, lying next to me. “We should do this more often,” he added.

My heart fluttered, elated. Of course I would love a repeat session.

“Are you ready again now?” Omega asked, his hand finding my thighs.

A demon with endless stamina, could my body handle it?


	16. Forfeit

* * *

 

 

 

A few days had passed and I not only felt but looked roughly six months pregnant. Papa Emeritus did not lie when he warned the child would grow quickly. It was surprising nonetheless. Naturally, I was given a new dress to wear in order to accommodate the little one. White with a gold star stretched over my hitchhiker.

I sat outside for once, by the chapel doors stroking my bump. A faint light engulfed the area, the darkness retreating slightly. It was an uncommon sight, but during my stay here I had seen it happen a handful of times. Rarely now was the light caused by Jophiel. I had not seen the angel since the night of the Ritual, with exception of a couple of dreams here and there. I wondered if he had forgotten about me, or just simply given up trying to rescue me.

In all honesty, however, I was probably too far gone to be rescued now. I could not return to my life, my world, suddenly pregnant with a large bump. How would I even begin to explain that one? The pregnancy itself did not seem so bad, but it did make me feel uncomfortable; carrying something inside you would do that. I decided that I would go for a walk to fully appreciate the good weather, if it could really be called that. I hoped that would appease the creature growing inside me.

These days, I was finally trusted to wander outside if I did not stray too far and kept in sight of the chapel. I did not understand this, I seriously doubted that I would be able to walk out of Hell and the only other creature I had come across was an angel, so there was no element of danger as far as I was aware. However, those were Papa’s orders and I intended to keep them this time.

As I strolled, I came across the pond where the angel and I first met. Back before I was pregnant and able to run; I did not have the energy anymore.

“My, how you’ve grown.”

I was startled, but recognised the voice to be of Jophiel the angel. He stood on the other side of the pond, just like the first time. Unlike me, he had not changed at all. He was still beautiful.

I embraced my bump, feeing slightly self-conscious. “You could have stopped this.”

Jophiel, still smiling, shook his head. “I told you, I cannot enter the chapel. Even though I am angel, it does not mean I have the power to fend off an unlimited number of demons.”

So, even angels had their limits. A single angel would be no match for an army of Ghouls lead by Papa Emeritus.

“This is their territory, Klara,” Jophiel continued. “And I am an uninvited guest. Please understand that I did everything that I could to save you from this fate.”

The words did not make me feel any better, in fact I felt considerably worse. Was I now beyond salvation? Even an angel of God could not help me now?

“So, that’s it?” I asked, kneeling carefully. “I am doomed? And all of humanity?”

I found it difficult to believe that this apocalypse could no longer be prevented. Or rather, I hoped it could be stopped. There had to be something that I could do – what if I returned to my home, with this child, and raised it myself? It seemed quite possible that I could steer his destiny in a different direction. That was probably wishful thinking. I thought of the movie The Omen and my hopes perished. I imagined that my child would be exactly like Damien. Why wouldn’t he? Lucifer most likely would make sure his son was kept on the right track.

“There is another way,” Jophiel spoke. As he approached, his stunning light covered everything; making everything beautiful as he did before. The birds, sunshine, warm calm breeze. It still felt amazing and it started to ease my fears. “Get rid of the child,” the angel advised.

I was shocked initially, but the angel’s light enchanted me. It destroyed my doubts; all my negative thoughts.

“How?” I questioned.

Jophiel crouched before me, forcing me to look into his icy blue eyes. I started to feel more entranced, more relaxed.

I was aware of rumble, like thunder, but I could not react. The ground started to break apart, collapsing around Jophiel and I. The pond vanished, as did the trees, but Jophiel remained still. As did I. A very small part of me was scared, screaming for me to run. But I did not listen. No doubt it was the evil creature growing inside of me that was terrified. Did he know?

As the ground collapsed, I started to feel very hot; a steam like mist surrounded us.

Finally, Jophiel extended his wings; they were magnificent, as pure as the driven snow. Some of the shimmering feathers were lost, falling around me, but the angel was not concerned. He was lifted from the ground, a few feet above me, while I remained kneeling in awe.

“Klara. Below is molten rock. Lava,” the angel spoke calmly. “It will cleanse you and in the process, the demon child inside of you will be no more.”

I smiled, a feeling of excitement building up. But there was still that small, nagging voice that told me something was very, very wrong.

“Will I be okay?” I asked, not taking my eyes away from the hovering being.

“Trust me,” Jophiel responded. “You will be cleansed.”

Again, that small voice. Was the angel trying to harm me? Is that what he meant by cleansed? I dismissed the thought. Why would an angel kill someone? They are the light, hope and everything good. An angel could not be capable of evil.

Before I knew it, the ground beneath me collapsed. Still under the glamour of Jophiel, I had little fear as I fell. I was soon swallowed by the ground that remained. The temperature rapidly rose the further from the angel I dropped. However, the increasing distance between us caused the spell to weaken and soon I was very much aware of what was happening.

I was falling to my death. The little voice inside me was right, but it was now too late for me to do anything.


	17. Falling Feathers

* * *

 

 

 

I panicked and started to scream for help as I fell, hoping that there was enough time before the lava consumed me. I thought I would pray to God for help, but if his angel was sent to eliminate me and my unborn child, I seriously doubted that my prayers would be answered.

The unborn child of Lucifer was the reason I was falling, about to die at any moment.

Lucifer! I had an epiphany. If God would not help me, could Lucifer? Would Lucifer? For the sake of his son, I hoped so.

“Lucifer!” I called, hysterically. “Lucifer help me!”

Who was I kidding?

I pressed my hands to my ears and closed my eyes, bracing, waiting for the impact. I continued to scream as loud as I could, even though I lost all hope of being saved. Perhaps Jophiel would feel regret, disgrace, remorse. If angels were capable of such emotions. If any at all.

A bright light appeared; it was either the lava or it was…

I opened my eyes again and saw a silhouette of an angel flying towards me. Did Jophiel change his mind after all?

I suddenly found my hope. I extended my arms and attempted to grab the angel, even though he was still too far away. I called the angel’s name and could finally start to see him; white angelic wings, blonde hair and blue eyes. He reached for me and I did not hesitate in taking his hand. The angel pulled me against him, his bare chest my cushion as his muscular arms embraced me tightly. My own arms were wrapped around his body, feet dangling helplessly. I never wanted to let go of Jophiel.

As we ascended and the white feathers fell, the angel gracefully thrashing his wings, the temperature became more bearable. I could feel myself starting to sweat, the extreme heat no longer evaporating any moisture I expelled. The angel’s handsomely smooth skin did not seem to be affected; he felt surprisingly cool and not damp in the slightest.

I did not care. I just wanted to get away, to place my feet on stable ground once more.

The darkness devoured us once again and I could finally see the earth, the grass and the trees. No tweets from birds however, just silence. I felt my feet against the ground and even though I was mollified, I refused to disengage from my saviour. Even though Jophiel had tried to kill me, it appeared. The angel knelt, taking me with him. My legs folded beneath me and I was soon leaning against the earth with my legs and hip.

I then saw that we were not alone, but in the presence of Papa Emeritus and a handful of his Ghouls.

Concerned for the angel’s safety, I glanced up at him, fearing that I would have to release my hold. But he looked slightly different. The eyes were less icy, more ocean like in their blueness. His hair a lighter blonde, almost platinum. Perhaps I was dazed due to trauma. The angel smiled down on me; his wings beautifully framing his body.

“Master!” It was Papa Emeritus.

Wait, Master? Why was Papa referring to Jophiel as Master? I took a second look, squinting as I tried to see passed the angel’s light to get a better look at his face.

“Klara,” he spoke. It was definitely not Jophiel, the voice was too deep, too masculine. “We finally meet.”

I let go of the angel and crawled back, my eyes widened in terror. Was this who I thought it was?

“Have no fear, I will bring no harm unto you.” The angel, or rather angel like creature, stood.

“Lucifer?” I questioned, tensing under the cynosure’s stare.

“Yes, it is I.” He answered, deviating feathers still wafting around him. I had never imagined the Devil to look as handsome, with no protruding horns and no red skin. No tail, either. Instead, he possessed glorious white feathers - he only seemed to be missing a halo, to accompany the white robe that had gathered around his waist.

Then I remembered what Papa once said to me. Papa Emeritus had a human form, maybe the Devil did too. I was quite relieved; I did not know how I would feel seeing the actual Devil standing a foot in front of me. On a less terrifying note, I reflected on being saved by this creature. The King of Hell? I supposed that I should not be too taken aback, I was carrying his child after all. A fair amount of effort had gone into creating his son. Lucifer was unlikely to want his achievement wasted. By an angel of God of all things.

“You’re an angel?” I queried, tilting my head slightly and gazing at his wings.

Lucifer chuckled, “I suppose angel is a reasonably accurate description, but I am more than that. I must also apologise and wish you a very belated welcome, welcome to my humble kingdom.” He raised his arms, in gesture to what surrounded us; his wings almost taken by the motion also. “No serious harm will ever come to you here, you have my word,” he smiled, relaxing his arms.

I could have swooned.

Lucifer was supposedly a mythical creature of religion; symbolising rebellion. This creature stood before me and I was in awe. The real Lucifer, in the flesh. In my presence.

“Master,” I heard Papa’s voice, initiating a diversion.

Lucifer nodded to me, then to turned his attention away from me and onto to Papa; casually walking with his wings ensuing. “Greetings, Papa Emeritus. You look... different?”

“As do you,” Papa grunted in response, not appearing to be amused. I presumed that the two did not often meet in their human like forms, if at all. I was grateful that today they did.

Omega lunged at my side, clutching me and forcing me to look at him; Lucifer was no longer my priority. “Klara, what happened?” He asked, appearing frantic.

“I just met Lucifer,” my eyes wondered back to him. It felt like I had just met an A-List celebrity, except my astonishment was massively amplified by the fact that it was _Lucifer_!

“Yes, I saw that,” Omega spoke. I caught him rolling his eyes.

It perhaps would not mean much to a demon, but to me it was spectacular.

“The real Lucifer,” I added.

“Is there any other?” Queried Omega, in a tone that suggested that he most likely had no intention of eliciting further details.

I felt drained. Exhausted. It was suddenly quite challenging to keep my eyes open. Perhaps it was the shock; the rollercoaster of emotions now finally calmed along with everything else.

“I,” I started to speak, feebly. “I think I need some sleep,” I mumbled, trying to focus on the blades of grass dancing in front of me. Even that was difficult.

“Omega!” Papa commanded, startling us both. “Take her back, I will deal with her later.”

Lucifer looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes deprived of any hint of emotion; just like Papa’s. Was I in trouble again? But why? I was deceived; it was not my fault. I did none of this on purpose. I was perturbed further.

The Ghoul swept me up into his arms, mindful of the bump, and we headed back to the chapel. The other Ghouls followed us while Lucifer and Papa remained stationary.


	18. Spirit

* * *

 

 

 

I still could not believe that I met the one and only Lucifer.

I sat on Papa Emeritus’s bed, resting my chin on my knees, and I tried to anticipate what would happen next. No doubt there would be a consequence for having to summon the dark lord. Why I was brought back to Papa’s room, I did not know. The fact that my attempted extermination terrified me was not enough, I had to wait. Wait for more. For worse. I recalled the last time I had angered Papa, in the chapel room by the altar. I cringed, but wondered if I was too pregnant to be spanked again. Thank God, no, Lucifer, for small mercies.

Shaking the idea away, I focused on what had taken place earlier. An angel, Jophiel, whom I thought was my saviour, tried to kill me. The gesture was awfully grand; the angel did not want to get his hands dirty, perhaps. I struggled to make sense of the situation; was there such a thing as an evil, murderous angel? Or was it I who was evil? Had I left no other option for Jophiel?

I considered the conjuration, was that what blinded me? Allowed me to believe that I was safe in the angel’s presence? I remembered the night of the Ritual when Omega stopped me leaping from the window. It must have been some kind of spell, I may have thought about suicide in the past, but I had no intention of jumping to my death on the night of the Ritual. I did not think so, anyway. If that was the case, why did the spell not hold the same intensity earlier? I could recall a nervous feeling, a slight anxiety that I never experienced in Jophiel’s presence previously. Was that the result of my unborn child? Did the angel’s magic not work on him? Was any of this even feasible?

I was disturbed by the opening of the door, Papa Emeritus entered. He looked at me as he closed the door behind him, but I could not determine his mood. That was not unusual, his mien was regularly indecipherable.

“You have been seeing an angel? Behind my back?” He asked, tarrying at the door.

“I have never seen him before today,” I answered. It was a blatant lie and I kept going, “I don’t know anything about him.”

I then hoped that Papa was as oblivious as I assumed.

I so very was wrong.

“Enough of your prevarication!” Papa roared, striking the door behind him with his palm.

To say that I was scared would have been a gross understatement. I flinched, gripping the sheets beneath me. I decided to move on, there was no point in lying further. “I didn’t know he wanted to kill me. Us,” I answered in haste, remembering that I was in fact carrying a passenger. The words felt dire, disgusting.

“I could have told you that!” Papa was clearly infuriated; his voice was raised. “But you never before mentioned this _angel_ friend of yours.”

Friend indeed. I figured that Omega must have told him everything. What else could he have done? Omega could unlikely distort any truth or withhold crucial information from Papa.

“But he made me feel safe and loved!” I argued, rolling forward on to my shins. I was prepared to run if Papa approached me. He looked like a cobra ready to strike its prey.

The demon growled and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, girl, an angel’s venom is sweet, but venom nonetheless!”

I had no words. I did not know what I could say.

Papa continued, “I don’t know why you humans think of angels so fondly, they despise your kind! In their eyes, you are impure. _Insects_ that need to be squashed.”

The speech was shocking, I had no idea that angels hated humanity. It was not what I was lead to believe. Unless Papa was lying, but what reason would he have to deceive me? Especially since the angel, Jophiel, had endeavoured to wipe me out. I had no idea what to believe anymore and looked at Papa with sadness.

“Don’t give me those doe eyes, I haven’t finished being infuriated,” Papa stormed towards the window to avoid me, to my relief. “You nearly died! If you died here, your soul would be destroyed with your mortal body. There would be no afterlife for you. Nothing!”

I looked back to the bed, targeting the dark, wooden footboard in front of me. The thought of dying in Hell never crossed my mind, so I had not considered the consequences. It was even more grim than I could imagine. But I knew the real reason why Papa was sullen. The unborn, unholy bastard child growing inside of me. Would he have suffered the same fate?

“Well, the spawn is fine, so you can just stop,” I snapped. I did not need any more lectures.

I heard Papa emit a sigh, was he calming? He looked over his shoulder, but his glance could not quite reach me. “Yes, I care about Lucifer’s son. But do not assume that I care not for you, because I do.”

I did not accept Papa’s words, but he continued before I managed to respond. “And no, not just because you are carrying the child. You are my ward as well.”

His words did pacify me slightly, but I had no desire for further interaction. It was sort of comforting to know that this demon did want to protect me, not just the child within me. A demon, perhaps for the second time, saved me from an angel. A demon that wanted to preserve me, as well as possible while the angel wanted to destroy me. Who would have thought it?

I rubbed my head, starting to feel a dull ache. It was all too much, it did not make sense.

Papa noticed my discomfort and advanced, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Klara,” he spoke serenely, “when I sensed my Master’s presence, I felt fear. I knew something terrible must have happened to warrant his appearance and, in all honesty,” an interval, as if he was thinking carefully about how to proceed. “My immediate concern was you. Your wellbeing.”

I scanned his eyes, abruptly. Were his words true?

“Yes, well, it would be an inconvenience to have to repeat all of this for Lucifer’s son, but at this stage he can be replaced. You,” he paused again, seeming genuine. “You cannot be replaced.”

I found myself smiling, much to my annoyance. They were the nicest words I had ever heard from Papa; I was touched by them.

Papa’s eyes responded in kind, just before he had to ruin the moment; not for the first time. “Well, not very easily, at least. You would make an interesting zombie girl, I am sure. As long as you can leave me something to work with,” he joked.

At least I hoped it was in jest.

I then pondered, before asking, “do you have a soul? Can you die?”

Papa thought for a moment, removing himself from the bed. He walked by the footboard slowly, but kept eye contact most of the time. “Yes, I have a soul and yes, I can die, if you could call it that, but not as easily as your typical, Earthly creature.”

I was surprised to hear that Papa had a soul; I never would have assumed. Then I recalled Papa informing me that Lucifer could not create souls, only God could; hence my pregnancy. If that was true, how did this demonic creature in my presence obtain a soul?

“And before you get any ideas,” Papa continued, “no, you cannot kill me. You would be on the floor before you could even _think_ about throwing a punch!” Then he grasped the handle of the door and pulled it open.

He gestured for me to leave. Was it something I said?

I crawled from the bed, jumping to the stone floor but slightly anxious about having to walk by Papa. I hesitated.

“Next time, if you need anything, call _me._ And going forward, you will not leave this place without an escort. Now, I suggest you leave before I change my mind about punishing you for your transgression,” he advised.

I did not need to be told twice.


	19. He Is

* * *

 

 

Usually, whenever I was frightened into submission by Papa Emeritus, I would seek out Omega. But not this time. After my near-death experience, I wanted to be alone, to think and reflect in peace. I could not seek refuge in the altar room, too open and had too many memories; good and bad. I did not want to return to my chambers, as that seemed to only have bad memories. I was not allowed to go outside alone, either. The chapel was fairly large, but not large enough sometimes. Was there really nowhere else to go?

I stood at the entrance to the altar room and looked up in frustration, paying no further attention to the Ghouls. Then the bell chimed, breaking the silence.

The bell tower!

If the ringing did not deafen me, the bell tower would provide the tranquillity that I was seeking.

 

It was a trial finding the stairs to the bell tower, but I had navigated my way to the summit at last. The structure was not as small as I expected, so I could stand by the many archways and look out across the kingdom. Papa Emeritus’s kingdom at least. I still could not see anything else, not one tortured soul or devilish creature.

I then thought of Lucifer; King of Hell, the fallen one, angel-like creature. I was so misguided in my beliefs, he seemed so nice and charming for the Devil. I feared Papa far more.

But Lucifer could never really be called the good guy. He did want to wreak havoc on my kind. Destroy us and who knows what else. I did not understand why he was so pleasant with me if, ultimately, he wanted me dead. And what about God? My God? Did he see me as impure? Did he want me gone, as well? If so, why did I even bother?

What a conundrum.

Supposedly, the two most powerful beings in existence wanted my life snuffed out.

The bell tower did not help in providing me with enlightenment, just grief.

What about the baby inside me? Did he have the murderous urge to kill me, while still in the womb? No, I chose not to dwell on that any further; I did not want to give him any ideas.

But what about Omega? The Ghoul seemed to enjoy me alive, but would he miss me? I was doubtful.

“Bastards,” I uttered.

The bell rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning round so that I could glare at it. An inanimate object! Perhaps I had lost my mind; I would not be too surprised.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, leaning against the stone wall as I waited for the adrenaline to pass.

“Very well, Omega. As long as you are aware of the ramifications.” That was Papa’s voice I could hear.

I peered through the archway, looking down at the chapel’s entrance. There he was alongside Omega. Oblivious to my whereabouts.

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to stay here, there would be nothing for me,” Omega spoke and stopped in his tracks.

What was I hearing? Omega wanted to leave? Leave me?

“Does she know?” Papa asked, also ceasing to walk further.

I assumed that _she_ was me.

“No, I wanted to talk to you first, Papa.”

Papa nodded in approval. “Good. Be sensitive when you do. Now, I need more Ghouls patrolling-“

That son of a bitch! I no longer paid attention to their conversation, too distracted by my anger. Was Omega planning to leave me? But to go where? More importantly, was I nothing? Why would Omega say such a terrible thing? I harboured no delusions, at least I thought not, but to consider me as nothing was agonising. His words, were they just that with no meaning? Was Omega leading me on, or was I just misinterpreting everything?

I fell to the ground, leaning back against the stone wall and staring into space. Omega was a Ghoul, a demon. Surely, he could never understand feelings of infatuation or love? Just lust. I was nothing more than a piece of meat to be discarded when finished with.

But where would he go? Did Omega plan to leave Hell completely, or just this realm, as Papa called it?

What would become of me?

All of a sudden, retiring to my room seemed a good idea.


	20. Willing Sinner

* * *

 

 

I had spent countless hours in my room in an attempt to avoid everyone; especially Omega. I was still reeling from what I heard from the bell tower; that Omega was planning to leave me. How could he? What did I do? Or was it that demons just had no feelings whatsoever? I was just foolish, perhaps. The trauma of being abducted, raped and impregnated for some unholy purpose, kept as a prisoner. Omega was my light, I placed a lot of emphasis on him; too much. As a consequence, my heart had been ripped apart.

I was such a cretin.

“Klara?”

I did not even realise the door had opened; too preoccupied with self-pity.

It was Omega. “Klara, I haven’t seen you about for a while. Is everything okay?”

No, everything was not okay. I was heartbroken. “Just tired.” That was partially true, being pregnant was exhausting sometimes. I looked like I was due any day now.

“Would you be willing to go for a short walk? I need to talk you,” Omega asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

I assumed that he would tell me that he was going to leave me. Despite my tiredness, I would agree. I was curious to know what interested Omega more than I could.

 

We had not walked far when Omega initiated the conversation. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little off?” His perception was spot on.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Are you?” I wanted Omega to be honest with me, but he only seemed to be delaying the revelation. It was provoking, but I could not let on that I knew. I wanted the Ghoul to tell me himself.

Omega gently pulled my arm, signalling to stop. He looked down at the grass before kneeling, gesturing me to follow.

“Klara,” he started, his voice seeming a bit shaky. “I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I really enjoy spending time with you.”

I anticipated another _but_ and chose to divert the conversation slightly, “what do you get up to when you’re not with me?”

Omega seemed surprised at the question. “Well, I have my duties as a Ghoul, which means taking care of any business that Papa Emeritus doesn’t have time for.”

“Like what?” I pried, wondering if I could figure out the reason for his abandoning of me.

“Well,” Omega responded, seeming a bit hesitant, “menial things like preparing for certain things, like rituals. Holding the fort when Papa is absent, collecting souls from Lucifer-“

I was suddenly distracted. “Collecting souls for what? To become Ghouls?”

“That happens rarely. It’s uncommon to transform souls into Ghouls because Ghouls are normally created. But-“

“Were you created?” I interrupted.

“Yes, I was. I was never mortal,” Omega replied, narrowing an eye at my questioning.

“So,” I decided to resume my normal questioning, noting that as Omega had never been mortal he would surely not comprehend human emotions, “what happens to collected souls? Are they vindicated? Released?”

“No, they are consumed by us for energy. It’s not a very pleasant undertaking either, for the soul at least. Then they cease to exist.”

I was terrified of the concept; how cruel. “That is horrible! But I thought souls could not feel pain?”

“It is horrible, but that’s what we do when a soul is beyond salvation. They are specially selected by Lucifer,” Omega replied, with no emotion in his voice. “Souls who have not passed the gates of heaven can feel pain as if they were human, unless they leave of course. When we have them, we rip them to pieces. Sometimes, not very quickly.”

How brutal, I thought. For a moment, I hoped that my soul would never be in that position, but would that happen anyway if Lucifer claimed the Earth? Was that why Omega wanted to leave me? To avoid consuming my soul? I would rather Omega devour me than any other demon, if there was no other way.

“Is it necessary for you?” I asked, feeling quite nervous and hoping that he was not hungry.

Omega chuckled, “No, it’s not. But it’s delicious, similar to human blood apparently. But I have never tried that.”

I felt rather uncomfortable. Now I worried for my blood.

“But I didn’t ask you out to tell you about what I do in my spare time,” Omega added.

He was right, I focused once more.

“Well, after that conversation, perhaps I could show you how I feel instead? And no, I don’t mean drink your blood or eat your soul,” Omega smiled; I could see it in his eyes. “I will need you to trust me, as I am placing a lot of trust in you right now.”

My heart raced. What did he want to do?

“I need you to lie down and close your eyes. Under no circumstances are you to open them. Do you understand?”

Now I was really concerned! Why could I not watch? I could see sincerity in his eyes as he waited patiently for my answer, so I agreed to the conditions with a nod.

“Good,” Omega responded. “Now, put your head down and close your eyes.”

I did as instructed; the apprehension fuelling my arousal and anxiety at the same time. I expected the pregnancy to quell my desires, but it did not. I was quite thankful for that up until now; I probably would have no need for it soon. My eyes closed and I took a deep breath, wondering what Omega was planning. I truly believed that he would not want to cause any harm or distress, so I would not betray him by opening my eyes. Not until he said otherwise. Not matter how tempting it would be.

I felt my underwear being pulled to one side, exposing my vagina to the warm air.

“Omega?” I called, slightly confused.

“Shh, trust me,” the Ghoul advised me. Suddenly, I felt pressure from something moist and slightly rough. I giggled uncontrollably and tried to keep still, wondering if it was perhaps Omega’s tongue. It would explain why he asked me to keep my eyes closed. I was tempted to look, but Omega’s tongue was like an inquisitive serpent, caressing with an occasional gentle nibble. Any intention of opening my eyes vanished. I had never seen his tongue before, let alone felt it. But it was magnificent; remarkably talented in its dancing.

Sadly, in my pregnancy, the ability to climax was hindered either by my physical feelings of discomfort or mental; it was so incredibly hard to let go as I did previously. Perhaps my motherly instincts were kicking in, or I was too distracted with how I felt about Omega emotionally – especially after our previous conversation.

Omega stopped for a few moments, breathing onto my wet vagina. “Relax,” he advised. “You worry too much.”

“I should hope so,” another voice called.

Startled, I opened my eyes and stared at the sky. Everything seemed brighter again; birds were tweeting and butterflies fluttered across my vision. I then recognised the voice.

I looked to Omega, whose face was covered by the mask once again, and he was glaring to my right. I followed, seeing Jophiel standing nearby.

“My, my. You are quite the little sinner, aren’t you?” Jophiel spoke, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “After I offered you salvation, too.”

“You!” I snapped, sitting up immediately. “You tried to kill me!”

“Your soul has been tainted. You have been in the company of these wretched demons for too long. I suppose I should forgive you, you are only human after all.” Jophiel stared intensely, the striking ice blue eyes piercing. “But it would be much better to cleanse you.”

Before I realised that his eyes had the ability to entranced me, I was under his spell once again. The feeling that came with it was still sublime, I could compare it to nothing else. Only this time, I fought hard against its manipulation. I wanted to stay with Omega.

My demon lover must have sensed my turmoil; he stood and cracked his knuckles. “I will make sure you never interrupt us again,” Omega warned. Then he disappeared from my line of sight.

In a flash, he was before Jophiel, swinging a fist at his adversary. Unfortunately, the angel leap back and extended his wings, white feathers littering the ground beneath him as he hovered. It was my first time seeing wings and I was amazed; they were absolutely remarkable. Each feather seemed to shimmer as Jophiel created his own light in attempt to blind Omega.

It temporarily worked.

Jophiel delivered a swift kick to Omega’s head, sending him flying.


End file.
